Song of Desire
by Musical-Phanatic333
Summary: Yes... It is a Erik and Christine fanfic.. But oh wait! There are twists and turns.. Will they stay together? Read and you'll find out!
1. Chapter 1

"MOMMY! NO!!" That was the last thing I said to my mom before she died, saving my life. Her last words to me were "Christine, the Angel of Music will always be with you and watch over you and protect you… even when I'm not…. He…her..." she couldn't even finish her sentence. After that, just held my mother's upper body, more like cradled it in my arms. I kept saying to myself "Her mother promised the Angel of Music… her mother promised her…. Her mother promised her… her mother promised her."….. I didn't even get to say goodbye... or I love you….

That was 10 years ago. I was 6 years old when she died, saving me. She pushed me out of the way of a moving carriage, while I chased after my ball. Now I live with my best friend, Meg Giry and her mother, Madame Giry, the Ballet teacher at the opera house, which we live in. And also mine and Meg's Ballet teacher.

I love Madame Giry as if she was my own mother and I love Meg as if she were the sister. But it's that I don't miss my own mother, I do, I miss her every day and night. And I don't really remember my father because he died when I was very young. My mother never spoke about him.

But still, I don't remember much after that. So, my mom was always important to me. When she had died, I was crushed. I had no one in the world, so I thank Madame Giry to take me under her wing. My mother had promised once I reached a certain age, my angel of music would come to me to become my singing tutor. Well, he hasn't come yet, but I have a feeling he will come. Soon enough, I will be under his protecting gaze.

But until then, I'll have to continue in my ballet training and listen to the awful singing or screeching in some cases, of Carlotta Gudicelli. The over confident, who thinks she's is the best singer that comes from 'Espaina' as she says in her thick Catalan accent. Oh well, we all have to suffer at some time or another, right?

After a grueling day of dancing and listening to Carlotta's screeching, we went back to the dormitories, and I plopped on my bed with a thud. After a few minutes of silence, I began to drift on and off into sleep.

Then I heard it. "Christine, Christine, Chrrriiiissstttiine…" a ghostly voice breathed.

I cocked my head up so fast, that I had nearly become dizzy.

"Hello?" I asked hoarsely. I got no response. I waited for a few brief, silent minutes, but still no response.

I thought I was dreaming then, so I laid my head back onto my pillow. I began to slip back into the world of dreams, when I heard the ghostly voice again, this time it was louder.

"Christine, Christine, Chrrriiiissstttiine…!" The voice was so gentle and soothing, it almost made me want to fall asleep again. But I was so curious, I got out of my bed to look in the hallway to see if it was coming from out there. There was a light chuckle behind me. I spun around so fast that I lost my balance, and I landed on my backside with a small thud. I felt my face becoming flushed, but I don't know why.

"It's not like anyone was in here to see me." I said to myself aloud.

Another chuckle, "That's where you are wrong, my dear." A velvety voice said.

I gasped. "Wh-who's there?" I stammered, "Reveal yourself at once!" I demanded, though, I still sounded like a frightened child. Again, it was laughing. I was beginning to become annoyed, for it seemed like it was mocking me.

"Are you mocking me?" I asked as stern as I could.

"No, no, my child. I apologize if I have offended you in anyway."The apparition said to me, this mysterious voice entrancing me, word by word.

"O-oh!" I said quietly, " It's okay. Don't worry, please. I'm sorry, I am just tired, it was a long day." I said meekly. I couldn't believe I was talking to someone or some**thing** that may or may not exist. I felt foolish, and yet, I felt very comfortable talking to "it".

A quiet, melodious laugh rang through my room. "I know, my dear. If I too, had to listen to "La Carlotta's" voice any longer today, I would be as tired as you. If M. Laroux could just hear her the way you and me can, you would have her place in a heartbeat."

"What do you mean by I would have her place?" I asked, very puzzled.

I have let no one hear me sing since my mother died. I could not bring myself up to sing, because it was my mother's and I favorite pass time. We would sing to each other and with each other for hours on end. But when she died, that part of me died too. Nobody in the Opera House knows that I sing, if I do, it is usually in the comfort of my room.

"Oh, have you not heard yourself sing?" he exclaimed, "You have the voice of an angel! I am truly mesmerized every time you sing. My, child, you truly have a gift." He finished sweetly.

"Why thank you." I said quietly. I have never been complimented like that before.

I heard a it breath a rather large sigh. "I think it is time for you to go to sleep."

I yawned. "I'm not really all that tired." I said with a stretch. I meandered back to my bed, my eyes nearly closing as I sat down on my lumpy mattress. I just didn't want my ghostly friend to leave quite yet, I had so many questions.

"Sleep, my girl. I promise you, I will not leave you." the voice said, as if it could see my fear of it leaving in my mind.

"My ask you a question?" I asked as I crawled into bed, pulling my blankets up.

"Of course." he said.

"Are you...?" I had trouble asking because I wanted it to be true, "Are you my Angel of Music?"

A moment of silence passed again. "Yes." It simply said. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I have one more. Are you a it, or a man?" I asked sheepishly.

His melodious laugh rang again. " I am a 'he'." he said.

"Thought so." I murmured. As I was falling asleep, he started to sing a sweet lullaby. 'Oh my!' I thought excitedly to myself, 'He truly is my Angel of Music! Only an angel could have a voice like his.'

Without even realizing it, I whispered "Goodnight."

"Good night, sleep well. Your Angel will always be here."


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up the next morning, very confused about what or what didn't happen the previous night. It just didn't seem real to me. I couldn't believe what had happened. But on a side note, this was the first time in years it seems, that I had a GOOD night sleep. I didn't have a nightmare or wake up crying, I actually slept all the way through the night.

'Was it because of him?' I pondered to myself as put on my clothing for the day. Seeing how I had a good, full night sleep, I had more energy to my step that I usually didn't have. I didn't drag my feet when I danced or when we had to do our daily chores in the dormatories. I almost danced while sweeping and folding laudry and I even found myself humming the lullaby I remembered.

'Today' I thought happily, 'Is going to be a good day.'

But I kept thinking to myself, 'Was he real? Did it actually happen?' I wanted so desperately believe it, with all of my heart. My mother's promise (I hoped) had come true! At the thought, I danced around the dormitories, all of the chorus girls staring at me in puzzlement.

My friend, Meg, grabbed my arm and pull me aside to a corner. "What in the Lord's name has gotten into you, Chrsitine?" She whipered happily to me. I beemed a big smile at her.

"I had a good night sleep." I said. "First time in a long time, Meg."

"I know that. But there has to be something else." she pried, "Something good happen to you. Any good dreams? Meet any new boys?" She said with a wry smile and a raised eye brow.

I laughed. "Yes I did, and kind of did meet someone." I blushed. I kind of felt foolish for talking about last night to Meg, because it may or may not have actually happen to me. But it was also sort of fun to talk about it at the same time.

Meg squealed. "Oh Christine! Is he handsome? Is he older? Younger? Rich?" she bombarded me.

"Sssshh!!" I said, "You're the first person to know! Please keep it a secret Meg! I don't want anyone else to know!" I didn't want people to think I was crazy because of this.

"Okay, I promise! Cross my heart!" She swore. She looked around, "So, who is it?" she whispered.

"Well-" I started out but then Md. Giry interrupted saying it was time for dance rehearsals. Again.

"Ugh! I'll tell you later." I said to Meg, who hung onto my every word and followed me into the dance studio.

---

While stretching in the ballet studio, Meg scooted over to me.

"Tell me now!" She whispered hoarsely, so that Md. Giry wouldn't hear. She gave a pitiful attempt of a pout.

As I did my points and 4th position, I shook my head, and sighed.

"Later." I whispered back. "Do you want your mother mad at us and scold us later?"

She looked dejected, but I knew that she understood. Md. Giry slammed her cane into the ground, letting everyone that she was in charge and did not tolerate talking during rehearsal.

"Quiet!" She said coldly, "You're first show is in 6 weeks and you're no where near ready!" Again she hit the ground with her cane. "Get back to work. NOW!"

After going over the routine multiple of time, it was finally time to head back to our rooms. I was headed there alone, when Meg caught up to me. She tugged at my arm, trying to get any and all information out of me. I kept smiling and giggling, because I loved to see her reaction to every word I uttered.

"Well," I began, hesitating on whether or not tell her it was a dream, " I had a dream last night. A very good dream. I woke up to find that my angel of music came to me! And we talked for a long time, but I never actually saw him. I just heard his voice. But it was so beautiful! It was like bells ringing. And he sang to me a lullaby, the one that I was humming, remember? It was gorgeous!" I sighed and lied on my bed.

"Are you sure it was JUST a dream?" Meg asked excitedly, sitting next to me. "Maybe he was real!" She squealed.

I was just as excited as she was, but despite my eagerness, I let a long yawn.

"I don't know that now. But what I do know is that I am tired and we have an early morning rehearsal tomorrow. And I need another good night sleep." I smiled and she smiled back.

"Sweet dreams!" She giggled as she left my room.

I laughed. "I hope so. You too!" I said to her as she left my room.

---

After I had put my night gown on, I let out another long and loud yawn. And again, a melodious chuckle rang through my room. I smiled a rather big smile.

"I do suppose it is getting late." He finally said. "Would you rather me come back again tomorrow night? When you are not so tired?"

"No!" I said loudly, and more forcefully than I intended to be. "I mean, I would like it very much it if you stayed."

He laughed again. "Good. I had no intentions of leaving anyways." I could tell there was a smile to his tone, even though he was hiding in he shadows.

"That's good. I'm glad to hear that." I smiled again. My mysterious angel and I talked for what seemed like hours, mostly about music, the Opera House and me. I never wanted him to leave, becuase I felt so comfortable around him.

As I lazily lied in my bed, listening to my angel, I wanted to hear him sing again.

"Angel?" I interrupted him while he talked to me about his love of the piano.

"Yes, Christine?" He answered happily.

"Can I ask two favors?" I asked.

"You may ask." He chuckled and I giggled.

"One; Can you sing that lulaby again?" I asked shhepishly as I got underneath my covers of my bed.

"As you wish." He replied.

"And two." I said before he started to sing.

"Yes?" He said.

"Will you tell me your name?" I asked.

He started to sing my lulaby. I layed in my bed, waiting for his reply to my request.

"Maybe." He sang to me as slipped into sleep. "_Maybe._"


	3. Chapter 3

"Christine. Christine! Wake up!" said Meg, who tried shake me awake.

I groaned. "Why are you waking me up so early?" I complained into my pillow, "And will you stop shaking me." I pushed her away and turned away from my friend, with my back facing towards her. "Let me sleep Meg. Please?" I pleaded.

"It's nearly 10, Christine! You missed breakfast and you were going to be late to rehearsals if I didn't try to wake you up." She said exasperatedly. She threw her hands up, obviously annoyed with me. I snickered to myself, but then sat straight up.

"Wait, what time is rehearsal?" I asked, quickly getting out of bed and trying frantically looking for my point shoes and costume.

"Well, do you want the truth? Or a more favorable time?" She laughed at my frantic behavior. I glared at her hard. I hated being late, because that means extra chores from Md. Giry, and I was in no mood for chores. I hated chores

"The real time, please." I snapped, but she knows I meant nothing by it.

"It's at 10:15." She said. I groaned at her answer. I almost wish she'd given me a made up number instead, at least then I would not freak out so much. I hated the feeling of being rushed, it always made me feel edgy and irritated.

"Really? So you're telling me I have 15 minutes to get ready?" I whined.

"Well.." She started.

"Well what?" I asked as I put on my tights and my left shoe.

"You have only 5 minutes now." She said.

"But you just said it was **nearly** 10," I stressed, "That means I have 15 minutes time. Right?"

"Did I say nearly 10? Sorry, I meant that it is **nearly** 10:10." She said almost nonchalantly. "Well, I'm going to head off now. I'll meet you there." She now was headed for the door, leaving me all alone to get the extra chores. Some friend she was.

"What? You are not going to wait for me?" I asked astonished by her.

"I'm not the one who slept in." She said. I threw my pillow at her head and missed by a mile, hitting the door instead. She laughed, and I found myself laughing too. "Temper, temper, Christine. Try not to be too late." She said as she closed my door.

"Thanks." I said bitterly to myself, "I'll do my best." I tried to get my other shoe on and walk to the door and as I neared the door, I lost my balanced and fell on my backside.

"Oooww!" I let out after my fall. "That really hurt." I

I felt the blood rush to my face from embarrassment. 'I hope he didn't see that.' I prayed. A chuckle rand softly through the room, dashing all my hopes of not being too embarrassed. "You saw that, didn't you?" I asked meekly.

Again, he laughed light-heartedly. "For a ballerina, you are not very graceful." He said. I felt myself blush even more now that I know he saw me fall on my backside. "Oh, Christine." He began, "Don't be so embarrassed about little things like that. I think it's rather cute."

I laughed a short, hard laugh. "Well, I don't think it's very cute. I think it hurts actually." I said as I got off the floor. "Oh, lord! I'm going to be so late because I was talking to you! I don't want to have extra chores!" I said as I raced towards the door.

He laughed again and this time I was getting fed up with him mocking me.

"I don't find amusing that you laugh at me and my misfortunes." I said curtly. "Now if you will excuse me, I have rehearsal."

"I think Md. Giry will be too busy to notice that you're missing," He mused, "Carlotta is having a bit of an "off day", you could say." A few moments of confused silence for me, I said my goodbyes and he told me he would be back later. He then disappeared with a laugh, back into the shadows.

'Weird,' I thought to myself, 'Very weird.'

---

"Outrage!!" I heard Carlotta scream, even down the hallway where I was, "This is a disgrace!" She then said some things in Catalonian, which I guessed were swears and unmentionables. She was in the faces of M. Leroux and Md. Giry, yelling and ranting and being her usual diva self.

That made me quicken my pace and I reached the stage and saw a sand bag on the ground where Carlotta should be, while everyone was in a titter about what I had just missed.

"What happened, Meg?" I asked, very confused by the situation.

"Well, 'La Carlotta' was in the middle of her song in the first act. Then," she said pointing to where the sandbag should be, "and this sandbag falls and barely misses her. And now for the past, oh I don't know, ten minutes now, she has been ranting and raving about just nearly about everything. From this "accident" to the water in her dressing room."

"Wow." Was all I could say. Then I started laugh, a little at first then doubling over because my sides were hurting me. Meg looked at me very strangely.

"What are you laughing about? If Carlotta hears you, she'll turn her anger towards you because she will think you're laughing at her." I started to laugh even more.

"I AM laughing at her!" I said between giggles, "She is ridiculous! Anyways, she brought his upon herself, if she wasn't such a dive and a pain, this would never would have happened to her." She took another look at Carlotta's foolish behavior and then she began to laugh with me.

"You're right!" she said. We laughed silently with each other at Carlotta, flailing her arms and her hands in the air, stomping around, it was enough for anyone to laugh like we were.

"And another thing!" Carlotta screeched, making Meg and I stop quickly, "If this **ever** happens again, I am **through**!" She said, storming off the stage, her entourage and Piangi, our leading tenor, following in hot pursuit. Meg and I stood straight up and held our breaths so we wouldn't start to laugh as she blew by us. There was a few minutes of tense silence and then M. Leroux cleared his throat.

"Well, I believe we have things to do. Come on, let's get back to work everyone. We have only a few more weeks until Hannibal opens." He said. Md. Giry walked up to him, an envelope in hand and handed it to him. He took the note and retired to his office in a great hurry.

'I wonder what that was all about?' I pondered to myself. The slam of Md. Giry's cane awoke me from my silent wandering.

"You heard M. Leroux," she started, "We have plenty to do before Hannibal debut's. Let us rehearse, again." She said dryly and led us to our specific dance area where we start at the top of the show.

"Because Lord knows we need it." Meg whispered under her breath. I snickered and Md. Giry stamped her foot rather loudly and we stopped talking instantly.

"What is my policy about talking?" Asked a very annoyed ballet master.

"Talking is strictly prohibited during rehearsals." We all repeated in a dull unison.

"Then why are we talking and not stretching? Now do it!" She said sharply and loudly. We quickly went through our stretches and went over the dance seven times. I was in so much pain, legs were cramping and my feet were in such pain, that I just wanted to go to my room and sleep. I practically crawled back into my room and lied on my bed, staring at the ceiling and dreading the fact we had another rehearsal that night. I groaned from the idea.

"What's wrong, my dear? Long rehearsal?" My mysterious angel asked me quietly.

I let out a hard laugh. "You have no idea." I said, trying to reach my point shoes that were still attach to my feet. "And we have another one tonight." I groaned again.

"And I'm guessing you don't want to go?" he laughed. I nodded. "Hmmm," He started, "Let me see what I can do. I think I can pull a few strings."


	4. Chapter 4

Afetr lunch, I went back to my room and layed on my bed I rolled over onto my stomach, and found myself wondering what my angel was up to. What he said to me was very cryptic and vague, but that's not unsual for him to be that way. I sighed and rolled on my back, staring at the white, chipped ceiling.

'How does an angel have connections at an opera house? How does MY angel have connections?' I pondered to myself 'Does he think he can get me out of rehearsal tonight?' If he could, he'd have to an angel, because Md. Giry does not allow anyone, not even her own daughter, skip out on either a lesson or rehearsal. Even if you come to her, vomiting and with a fever. She would just look at you and tell you clean up and get to rehearsal on time.

'But I do love her like my own mother.' I thought to myself, knowing she did that out of love and for the best for her. I sighed another heavy and weary sigh, knowing very soon it was going to be time for our second rehearsal. I got up, off of my bed and put my point shoes back on, one at a time and I sighed heavily again.

"That sure is a lot of sighing, Christine." My angel joked from his usual place in the shawdows, "Oh. Don't bother with your slippers; You're done for the night." My jaw dropped in amazement.

"I hope you're not joking. You're quite serious, right?" I asked, a smile forming on my lips. My face beamed with happiness at the idea of not having to dance tonight and my feet were also very pleased with this idea.

"I am not lying to you, I am quite serious. But," He said mischeiviously, a slyness to his voice "under one condition Md. Giry said." I nodded in response. "You will become my pupil and I will teach you to sing like you never have sang before. That was the agreement Md. Giry and I had... Agreed on."

"What?" I simply said at first, completely floored by what he just said, "Me? Your pupil? You must be joking." I said, rising from my bed. "I'm... I'm.. I'm not-"

"Worthy? Right for it? Up to it? If you find the right word or phrase, you can stop me at any time." He chuckled. I scowled into the shadows, not actually knowing where he was. "Sorry, it's just so easy to get under your skin. It's too much fun."

"Sometimes you act like a child." I said, making me wonder how old he actually was. If angels aged, "How are old are you?" I asked, honestly wondering.

I heard a sigh in reply. "Well?" I prompted.

"I am an angel, Christine." He answered, sort of impatiently, "But I guess you could say I am 19."

'19?' I thought to myself, blushing slightly, 'He's only 3 years older than me.' "You seem older, angel." I said to him.

Another sigh. "I know, but that's just how I carry myself and my voice." He simply said. A moment of silence passed, and I was guessing that he was waiting for my reply to his offer. "So," He began, as if he read my mind, "Will you become my student? And therefore only going to one rehearsal a day?" He asked, temping me. I bit my lip, contemplating what I should do, weighing my options.

"Fine. I'll become your pupil." I finally said, wondering what I was going to get myself into. His velvety and happy laugh rang joyously through my room, bouncing off my wall, engulfing me in his beautiful sound. "Wow", I said, "I'm glad to see you're happy about this." I smiled.

"Of course I am happy! I cannot wait to teach you, my dear! You have so much potential and by the time we start, you'll be better than 'La Carlotta' by ten folds," He paused, thinking for a moment, "Not that you aren't already." I laughed now, happy at the decision I made.

'I think this will be the start of a wonderful thing.' I thought to myself happily, smiling hugely. I heard a clap from the shadows, which startled me. I even let out a small yelp.

"I'm sorry to have startled you," he chuckled, "But let's get to work."

"Now? Already?" I asked happily, but then soon realizing something important. "You don't have a piano." I pointed out to him.

"So you think." He said slyly. Then, out of nowhere, he struck a chord on a piano. My mouth fell open out of astonishment. "Now, it's time to sing. Unless you rather dance again." I feverishly shook my head no. "Good. Let's begin then, shall we?"

"You'll never cease to amaze me." I said, shaking my head in disbelief and laughed quietly to myself.

"Stand up tall and proper," he baked, "Shoulders back, feet shoulder length apart. To be a good singer, you need good posture." I was already standing, so I did what he told me quickly. As my shoulder rose as I took a breath before starting, I heard an unhappy cough.

"What? What did I do wrong, angel?" I asked, rather confused by his reactions.

"You never breath with your shoulders, Christine. Breath from your diaphragm." He sighed.

"My what?" I laughed, thoroughly confused by what he was saying.

"Your diaphragm? It's your muscle under your... Never mind. Just take a low, deep breath instead." He said. I did what he told me and then he told me to stand up straight again, reminding me that posture was the foundation for a good sound. Again, I did what he said.

"Alright. Let us begin."

----

"Well, that was a good lesson, wasn't it?" He said. I nodded in a tired agreement, I was so exhausted. Between the dancing rehearsal and the singing (which I had no idea that it was so tiring!), I was ready to collapse on my bed. We had done a lot that night; We went over my scales and most of the songs for the up coming show, _Hannibal_. He said I impressed vastly and he was to come every night to rehearse with me and I couldn't have wished for anything better in the whole world.

"Do you think I had the chance, I would be a good _Ellisa?" _I asked.

"Of course you would! But I think that you may have the chance soon enough, if Carlotta has another one of her fits." He said with a laugh.

I had almost forgotten about that and wondered how he knew about it. 'Well he IS an angel. And she was loud enough for everyone of Paris to hear have heard her.' I thought to myself, but I still wanted to know how he knew about that.

"Angel, how did you come to find out about Carlotta's accident and fit?" I asked. There was an uncontrollable burst of laughter as an answer to my question. I stood there, with my arms crossed across my chest, waiting for a real answer.

"Well," he began, "I may or may not have done a few things to make her life a bit difficult. She's always making everyone else's lives more difficult, so I decided I would repay the favor." He finished slyly. "I knew the sandbag wasn't going to hit her. It was just close enough to where it LOOKED like it was going to and to scare her." He chuckled at his own joke he played on her. I did too, just like earlier that day.

"Well," he said with a sighed, "It is time for you to go to sleep and time for me take my leave." I looke around to my ancient and wooden wall clock. It was nearly 10.

'We had our lesson for four hours!' I thought excitedly to myself. I absolutely loved spending with him, and so I was sad to see him leave. "You have to go already? It's not that late." I protested with a yawn.

"No, but you have had a long day." He said as started to play his piano and my lullaby. I began to change but then stopped.

"Turn your head away." I said as I blushed furiously.

"Of course, Christine." I changed quickly and got into my bed.

"You can look again." I said with a smile. He laughed and played it again, this time he was singing.

"Goodnight, Angel." I said dreamily.

"_Goodnight._" He sang to me.


	5. Chapter 5

When I awoke the next morning, I had never felt so refreshed in my entire life. Not even when the first time he sang to me. Something about last night was special. Maybe it was because for the first time in my life, I had a dream. Not a nightmare, but I pleasant, wonderful dream that I could _actually_ remember.

I dreamt that I was outside of central Paris, in a courtyard of an old, abandoned church. The sun's rays danced all over the dewy grass and roof, making them shine like thousands of little diamonds. I could almost feel the warmth as it washed over me.

I remembered that I wore a long and flowing white dress, the sleeves gracing the top of my shoulders. My dark brown hair carelessly danced in the gentle breeze of the beautiful day. I remembered walking around the courtyard, looking at the church's crumbling features and the dying colors of the old yet still gorgeous, stained glass window.

I picked up a rose near a rubble of a tombstone and sat down, playing with the stem and its soft, velvet petals. I looked up towards the never ending blue sky, placing my arm above my eyes to shield from the brightness of the sun.

Then, out of no where it seemed, a simple but pure sounding violin began to play. I stood up, and began to look around to find the source of the sound. As it played more, I knew what and who it was. I called out to him.

"Angel?" I called out, my voice echoing, "Where are you?" I got up and searched the courtyard for him, but I as passed by the rotting oak doors, the sound of the violin was much louder than where I was before. I thought he must have been in the church somewhere. I pushed the doors open, surprised by how light they felt to me. The music stopped as I entered through the threshold.

I walked down the aisle of the church, the Gothic architecture awing me, the flying buttresses and the glass windows still beautiful as they were before. It might have been old and a little decrepid, but despite that, it was still magnificent.

I walked down the aisle of the church, passing the pews that were still left over. I walked to the alter, looking all around for him.

"Master, are you here with me?" I called out again. For my response, my lullaby began to play again. A broad smile formed on my lips as I hummed the melody that I had become accustomed to.

I walked briskly, almost dancing, down to the alter below the picture of the virgin Mary and Christ. The sound seemed to grow ever the more louder as I neared it. Then, another violin joined, then another and cellos and woodwinds of all sorts began to play _my _lullaby. It was the most gorgeous noise that I had ever listened to. I began to sing louder too, my voice almost having a mind of it's own and soon, my voice carried over the orchestra where ever it was. I had never felt more alive then in my dream.

As the song quieted, I saw a figure at the door of the church, and he began to walk towards me. I stood, my mouth slightly open in astonishment.

"Angel?" I asked happily. He stopped in the middle of the aisle, his arms wide open. I ran towards him, knowing that it was my angel. He had the most beautiful smile when I embraced him. His green eyes looked in my blues eyes, and I swore they almost sparkled as brightly as his teeth did. His dark, brown bangs swept across his forehead. But it was the most peculiar thing; The right side of his face was hidden by a white, half mask. I was confused by it and must have been evident that I was.

"What's wrong?" He asked my, his velvet voice making my heart melt, even in my dreams. I just smiled at him and shook my head.

"Nothing is wrong, my angel." I replied. I found myself staring at his gorgeous face and his mask and I averted my eys. "Did you do this for me?" I asked, trying to get my eyes off his mysterious mask.

"Everything I do is for you, Christine." He said, "Come on, let's dance to your lullaby." I wanted to ask how because the pews were in the way, but as I was about to say that, they disappeared. He smirked and took my hand in his left and put his right around my waist. I put my head on his chest.

When we danced together, it felt like we were floating, I couldn't feel my feet on the ground. When I lifted my head to look around, I knew why I felt like I was floating. It was becuase we were floating in the air, but I wasn't scared. I knew he would have kept me safe. And it _was _just a dream.

As we twirled and danced in the air, I leaned in a little closer and he did too and just as were about to kiss, I woke up. I lied in my bed, staring at the same boring, white chipped ceiling.

"Why did I have to wake up?" I complained to myself. It was the most wonderful dream I had ever had in my entire life, and I didn't even get to see how it ended. ''Completely unfair.'' I said.

I pushed the covers off of me and heard "What's unfair?" It was Meg's soprano voice asking me.

"Oh, I had to wake up from the most wonderful dream." I sighed sadly. I climbed out of bed and stretched my arms over my head and yawned.

"I didn't miss breakfast, did I?" I asked, my stomach growling loudly.


	6. Chapter 6

"Where were you last night, Christine? And tell me about your dream." Meg said to me as she took her seat at the communal table at breakfast. I popped my head up, with egg hanging out of my mouth, and looked at her. She tapped her fingers impatiently on the table and rolled her eyes, waiting for me as I finished chewing my food. I drank some milk to help it wash it down faster. "So? What happened?" She asked me.

"Okay," I started in a hush whisper, "First off, I don't have to go to rehearsal anymore." I smiled broadly.

'What?" She said rather loudly, "You don't have rehearsals?" She made a few of the girl's heads turn our way.

"Shh!" I said hoarsely, "Quiet, Meg. You're so loud. Now, what I meant was I don't have rehearsals at night. I only have it once in the morning." Her mouth dropped open.

"What does my mother have to say about this?" She asked, skeptically.

"It was her idea, actually." I said, a little smug. She raised her eyebrow at me, squinting her eyes. "What?" I asked innocently.

"What's the catch?" She whispered, leaning across the table where we sat, her nose only mere inches away from mine. I giggled.

"I have to take vocal lessons." I happily said. She was completely speechless.

"That's it?" She asked. I nodded with a huge smile on my lips. "That's so unfair." She complained, sitting back and folding her arms. I laughed at her, while I ate the rest of my breakfast.

"So what were you rambling on about this morning? This dream of yours?" she asked me, once again catching me at mid-chew. I smiled as best I could with tost in my mouth. I swallowed and then flashed a grin at her.

"Remember when I talked about my angel of music to you and how he had visited me?" I asked in a hush whisper. She nodded in agreement. "Well, I had the most wonderful dream about him last night. In my my dream, I was in a church. An really old, but somehow gorgeous church. I walked inside the church because I heard this beautiful song, playing on a violin. As I entered the church, it stopped for a while. Then I walked around for a bit, then it began to play again. All of the sudden, a whole orchestra began to play and I sang with it. My voiced carried over the sounds in the church.

And as it died down, I saw a figure in the doorway. I didn't have to ask who he was, I somehow knew that he was my Angel of Music. Meg, he was so handsome!" I sighed dreamily. Meg just looked at me in puzzlement. I guessed she expected me to say more than I did.

"Well, what did he look like?" She asked me. I blushed slightly.

"He was tall, fair skinned, brown, wavy hair, green eyes.." I trailed off as I remembered my pleasant dream version of my angel. I decided to leave the part out that he had a white, half mask on. I didn't think it was important anyways. It was just a dream after all.

"Anything else happen in this dream of yours?" She prodded. I looked around sheepishly and leaned in closer to her, so that no one could hear

"Well," I said shly, almost blushing, "We almost kissed." I let out a girlish giggle. Meg sighed heavily.

"Oh, Christine. You're so funny." Meg said, smiling. "Come on, let's not be late to rehearsal." She said, clearing her plate away. I just sat and smiled, thinking about my dream and what it possibly could have meant.

----

"Once more." Md. Giry said, "From the top. You two in the front were very sloppy. Clean it up!" We did as we were told to. As Another girl, Madeline, and I did a leap in the dance, Carlotta's screech of terror made a few girls and I trip over each other. I unfortunately landed on top of poor, tiny Madeline.

"I'm so sorry," I said as she groaned, "Are you okay?" I gave her my hand to help her up. Her and I both rubbed our back side, knowing it was going to hurt worse tomorrow.

"Oh, I'm fine. It wasn't your fault really," She said, glaring to Carlotta, wailing and thrashing her arms in the air. "It's not like you meant to trip on me." Once again, an "accident" occurred, this time the back drop fell on top her. It wasn't heavy or anything. Actually, it's quite light, but of course, Carlotta had to carry on on how much it had hurt her and how maybe she couldn't do the show now.

"If I must continue working in these conditions," she screamed at M. Leroux, who stood there very calmly, "I'll quit!"

"Didn't she say that the last time?" I said to Meg, laughing. She stopped and looked directly at me. She stomped her way towards me, her red painted finger nail, wagging at me with such ferocity I thought it was going to fly off her hand.

"You toad," she spat at me, spit splattering on my face, "How dare you mock me! Why, I am La Carlotta and you **will** show me some respect, chorus girl if you know what is best for you." She puled her hand back, about to slapped me, when Md. Giry stepped in.

"I think that's quite enough, Mds. Gudicelli." Md. Giry said, Carlotta's wrist held tightly, in her slightly, wrinkled hands. She jerked free and scoffed. Everyone stood in silence, staring at what had just happened. Md. Giry turned to me with a hard stare. "I believe you owe Mds. Gudicelli an apology, Christine." I nodded meekly, knowing if I didn't, I would be severely punished.

"I apologize for my rude comment," I said as sincere as I could, "It was wrong of me." I kept my head down to the floor, not wanting to look at Md. Giry or at Carlotta. She scoffed again, at me.

"Christine is it?" She asked, sneering, "I'll remember that name, girl. You better watch your tongue if you know what's good for you." With that, she stormed off, heading to her dressing room, her entourage falling close behind her. The tension in the air was thick like mud, with everyone just staring at me, including Md. Giry and M. Leroux. I felt my face grow hot with embarrassment, wanting more than to run and hide.

"I uh- well," I began to stammer, "I'm-"

"What I think she's trying to say is," Meg said, rescuing me, "Is that she is sorry for all of this commotion and she doesn't feel well and is going back to room. Am I correct?" She raised her eye brow, as did Md. Giry. I nodded my head yes in agreement.

"May I?" I asked quietly to Md. Giry who just waved me off. "_Merci._" I said, quickly going back to my room, almost slamming my door.


	7. Chapter 7

I groaned into my pillow as I lied on my bed. I couldn't believe that actually just happened to me, that I actually did that. Usually, when I made those kinds of comments about Carlotta, it's only for me and whoever may be next to me to hear. My face still felt hot from the redness of my cheeks. I groaned again. When did she get ears like a cat?

"What's wrong, my dear?" My angel asked of me, of course from his place in the shadows. His laugh rang through the room like always, "Decided to take a sick day? What happened?" I couldn't bear to show my face to him yet; It was still burning red from before.

"I made an ass out of myself." I mumbled into the pillow. He laughed again.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "I didn't quite catch that; Could you repeat yourself? It may help to unbury your head." I sat up slowly, praying that the flushing from my face had subsided. I took a deep breath.

"I made a complete and total ass out of myself today at rehearsal." I said, almost whining. He just laughed at me. Again. "Thank you for the sympathy." I said steely.

"Oh Christine, do not worry about this. By tomorrow or maybe the day after, " he said, his melodic voice comforting me, "Everyone will have forgotten about this whole thing." I really tried to smile, still wanting to die from the embarrassment on the inside. "Anyways, I found it quite entertaining to see Carlotta get so worked up about a little comment about her stupidity." I smiled a real smile and laughed at what he said.

"You always know how to make happy when I'm in bad mood." I said happily.

"I do what I can." He replied. A moment of silence passed, and which to me, felt unbearable. I wanted to fill the void, so I struck up a conversation.

"I had a dream about you last night." I said, with a slight smile.

"Really? Was it a nightmare?" He asked, almost serious, but I dismissed it as sarcasm. I laughed this time.

"Of course not my angel!" I said, almost exasperatedly, "It was the nicest dream I had ever had, to be honest." I was very earnest; I meant every word I said. It really was the nicest dream I had ever had.

"Well," He began, supiciuosly, "What was this so called 'nice' dream about?" I told him everything about. The beautiful courtyard, the old church and how it was falling apart, but still gorgeous. The music and that I even got to 'see' him. He laughed short and almost forceful and asked me what he looked like in my dream.

I told him that he was tall, with piercing, green eyes and brown, short and wavy hair. I said that he had an amazing smile too. And then, I told him that he wore a white half mask. He was oddly quiet, guessing, very intently listening to what my dream description of him was.

"Am I close to what you _actually_look like?" I ask with a small giggle. He was silent. "Angel?" I asked, a little concerned as to if I angered him in some way. It wasn't like him to be this silent for this long. It felt

"What? I'm sorry, my mind was else where," he said distantly, "What did you ask?"

"I said, was I close to what you _actually_look like?" I said, repeating myself. He mused in the shadows, no doubting trying to answer my question. I was expecting a 'yes' or 'no' response, but I didn't get that from him.

"How do you know?" Was what he asked me instead. I was a little confused by his question; I didn't think my dream meant anything at all. It just another dream like any other.

"What?" I asked, my eye brows raised in my confusion.

"How do you know what I look like?" He said, as though through clenched teeth. He was usually so light-hearted and carefree; I've never heard him so serious.

"I don't." I said quietly, and very sincerely. Maybe my hearing his voice and talking to him so much, for so long, my mind created an image of him that was _actually_him. That's the only plausible explanation I could think of. "Are you upset with me?" I asked him, my voice small, just like how I felt.

"No," He sighed finally, "It just.." His voice trailed off. I waited to let him finish his sentence, but he didn't.

"It's just what?" I asked, standing from my bed, although I didn't quite know why. "You know you can tell me anything, Angel." I heard another heavy and dragged out sigh came out of nowhere.

"It's just, did you see anything else about me in your dream? Anything horrifying or ugly? Unsual?" He asked me, quite serious again. I shook my head vigorously no.

"Of course not! The only thing unsual," I said, carefully choosing my words so that I wouldn't upset him again, "Was your white mask, which personally, I liked." I smiled broadly, hoping he could see it that I meant what I said. Then something went _click! _in my head. "Do you not want me to see you ever?" I inquired of him. Again, he bombarde me with the unsettling silence I loathed so much. Couldn't he tell that I felt so much comfortable when he takled to me? That I loved the sound of his voice and whenever he spoke, my heart wanted to melt?

"No, I do want you to see me at sometime but," he said, hesitating on his next choice of words, "I don't know how to say this, but I'm... Scared." I was astonished. Was he saying he was afraid of me?

"Do I frighten you?" I asked very serious. He laughed.

"Not all," He said with a sad chuckle, "I'm scared of what you will think of me."


	8. Chapter 8

I stood in the middle of my room, very confused. "What do you mean?" I asked, "I don't think I could be ever scared of you." I heard another sad and heavy sigh. "I wish you believe me." There was nothing. 'Why is he so.. Secretive? Doesn't he trust me yet?' I thought sadly. I walked to my mirror dresser and sat down. I slumped over, my head landing in my arms. I let out a tired groan. There was a soft knock at the door.

"Can I come in?" It was Meg. I said she could and she came in slowly and thoughtfully walked towards me. "Hey, how are you feeling after your..?Umm, scene with Carlotta." I shrugged for my answer. She laughed. "Don't be so worried about it. My mother isn't mad at all, and neither is M. Leroux. Well, he was for a little bit, but mother calmed him down."

"How do you know that?" I asked her. "Were you eavesdropping on them again?" She had a rather bad habit for doing that.

She smiled her mischievous smile. "That's besides the point. Anyways, what I really came here for was to tell you some new gossip I've managed to scrape up." I could always count on Meg for the latest gossip in the Opera House. She was like a sponge, she soaked up every little tidbit of information she get her ears on. "One, M. Leroux is going to retire by the end of the month."

I gasped. "No!" I said, disbelievingly. I thought she was going to tell me something good, like Carlotta got fired or something. One can hope and dream happily, right?

"Yes, and remember when the set drop fell on "El Diva"? Well, apparently whoever did made it fall, left a not for M. Leroux, calling himself the "Opera Ghost", demanding that he leaves Box Five empty for his use and something else that I didn't get it." She said, while giggling. I was still confused about what she had just said. Why was M. Leroux leaving us? Who's going to replace him? Will the Opera Populaire stay open? I put my head back into my arms.

"And one more thing, Christine," Meg said, my head springing up, "Supposedly we're going to have a new patron."

"We have an old patron?" I asked her, oblivious to the fact that we had one. She just laughed at me.

"Of course we have one, silly. Anyways, I heard from one of the girls who's actually friends Carlotta that the new Patron is handsome and rich." She said with a dreamy sigh. Personally, I could care less about this whole new "Patron" person. Money or looks have never been in the formost of my mind. I had more important things running through my head.

"Carlotta has friends?" I asked, honestly very surprised.

"Yeah, it surprised me too. Anyways, he's coming to visit the opera house on the day of the gala during our last rehearsal." She squealed. I rolled my eyes at her. "Oh come on," She whined to me, "You're honestly not even the least interested in this Patron?"

I shook my head. Who cares about some rich guy who helps funds the Opera House? He probably hasn't been to an opera before in his entire life. "I didn't care about the last one." I pointed out.

"Fine. You're no fun." She pouted, "Well, it's almost dinner time. And I'm starving, so I think we should get going." She brushed her long, blond hair out of her face and started to walk away. She stopped at my door, realizing now I wasn't behind, following her. "Aren't you coming?"

I wasn't really all that hungry and I almost said no, but I did need to get my mind whirling about something other than why my angel left in such a sad state. I got up slowly, and walked with her to dinner, while she chatted away.

---

"Good night, Meg. Have fun at rehearsal." I said, closing my door. It was eight o'clock on the dot. 'Time to sing.' I thought happily to myself. dinner actually making me feel a little bit better. I sat on my bed, waiting patiently for him to "arrive". Minutes passed by like water dripping, annoyingly loud from the bathroom sink because you forgot to shut it off all the way and now you can't sleep because of it. Eight turned to eight-thirty, which turned into nine.

"Where is he?" I ask myself aloud, standing up. I was slowly becoming very annoyed with him, which was a difficult task to achieve. I don't let things annoy me, makes life unbearable that way.

"Right here." He said from his shadows. "I am terribly sorry I made you wait for so long. I had a few things to take care of."

"Such as?" I asked him, but I already had a pretty good idea what he had done. I would guess becoming the new "Opera Ghost" makes him a bit busier than usual.

"Let's just say things will run much more smoothly. And I must apologize for my behavior earlier. I should not have left you like that. It was very rude of me." He said, very sincerely, "And it's not like I do not trust you, it's just one of those days." He must have heard me talk to myself earlier. I have a bad tendency to do that sort of thing. I nervously laughed and cleared my throat.

"So, we ready to finally start?" I asked with a yawn. He laughed.

"Are you sure you are up to it?" He said, his smile tinting his voice with warmth and silkiness. I nodded and he struck a chord on his mysterious piano. I seriously want to know where he keeps that thing? I mean, there's not too mayn places you can hide a grand piano in the Opera House, especially in the shadows of some ballet girl's room.

We warmed up and started again singing throught the entired show of _Hannibal, _twice, and worked on a few other pieces from other various operas coming up, although no one knew what they were.

"How do you know what we're doing after _Hannibal_?" I asked, my voice a bit horsed and tired from an hour of straight singing. He chuckled.

"I have my sources. Don't under estimate me." He said slyly. I laughed and lied on my bed, my brown hair fanning out. I streched and sat back up, wishing I could sing more but it was an hour later than it should have been. I was usually done at nine, but with his lateness, it was ten and a half hour til candles have to be blown out.


	9. Chapter 9

Opening night had finally come, and everyone was busy, working on what needed to be done. The dancers danced, the chorus sang and acted, the workers finished the last layer of paint on the elephant that was to be used in the first act. Lazy bums. They had 7 weeks to work on it! Of course they were drunk. I swear they bath in their rum or something. They stunk of it all the time. Gross.

"From the top of the act, everyone!" Shouted Md. Giry above the roar of the caphony of noises like hammering and attempted singing, "Let's not dawdle. The new owners and the patron will be here soon. We want to make a good first impression, do we not?"

The pit tuned up, while everyone scurried to their places to start. "Oh," squealed, "I'm so excited."

"Why?" I asked. It's not like it's her first show. Infact, Meg's first show was when she was only 6, when she played a fairy in some obscure show I can never remember. It was before I came, so how should I know? "This is like your millionth show."

Her high pitched voice rang in my ears. "Actually, it's my 76th show," she said almost smuggly, but then gasped. A man with black slicked back, shoulder length hair walked across with two men and M. Leroux, and the arrogance oozed out of him and his Italian silk shirt. "Oh my God," Meg said, "That's why I'm excited." As she pointed to him.

"Everyone," M. Leroux yelled above the noise, stopping everyone in what they were doing, "I have an important announcement to make." Everyone moved closer to M. Leroux to hear what he had to say. "You all probably have heard the rumors of my retirement, well now I am here to say that these are true." There was a collective bunch of sad sighs and aws "But," he said continuing, "I leave you in the capable hands of M. Richard Firmin and M. Gile Andre." There was a weak round of applause as the two men stepped foward.

"Thank you very much," said Firmin, a tall lanky man with greying hair, "We are very honored to be ask to take over for M. Leroux. We, M. Andre and I, both love the arts." The shorter, round but also had greying hair man, M. Andre, coughed obnoxiously loud. "Oh right. We also have the honor of intorducing the new patron, the Vicomte de Changy." The man stepped foward. He was a tall, lean man of maybe twenty-seven with piercing blues and a smug smile that seemed to say "I'm-so-much-better-than-you-but-you-should-love-me-anyways-no-matter-how-low-you-are-beneath-me." , that made every other girl but me, swoon. I just wanted to gag.

"My family and I are happy to support the arts, " He said, almost too charmingly, waking towards Meg and I, "And for everyone who is in it." He flashed a wolf toothed grinned at me, making my skin crawl. His blue eyes glinted with something that made me feel that something wasn't quite right here.

"Which reminds me," M. Leroux interjected, "This is Carlotta Guidicelli. Our leading saprano for the last few years."

"Five years to be exact." She snapped in her thick accent. Then smiling her stage smile to the Vicomte, giggling.

"And this is Piangi," M. Leroux gesturing to a short, plump man, "Our leading tenor for also five years." There was another round of weak applause. I just wanted to sleep, just standing there and listening to them talk about nothing that concerned most of us. Blah, Blah, Blah. Meg, on the ither hand, was comlpetely meserized by the Vicomte, and as I looked around the room out of boredom, I found that most of the girls were also smitten by the young and rich Vicomte.

"Isn't he charming?" Meg asked me dreamily, whispering in my ears. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, sure. Prince charming himself," I said, sarcasm dripping in my voice, but she was too lost in her thoughts to even care.

"And his smile was just divine." She continued, almost drooling.

"Oh come on, you can't really tell me you think he's that amazing?" I whispered back to her, "He's a spoiled rotten arrogant child."

"Mmm." Was all she said. I was begining to lose all hope that not all blondes were air heads. I sighed and shook my head at her. "What?" She asked, slightly confused. I shook my head again and told her it was nothing.

As I was begining to lose the feeling in my feet from just standing there, it finally seemed like they were done talking about whatever it was, and it also looked like the Vicomte was leaving.

"I'm sure I am keeping you all from your rehearsal, so I guess it's my time to bid you all adieu. I'll be sure to be back tonight to see you all in the gala." He finished with a bow, walked right up to me, took my hand and kissed it. "Break a leg tonight." He said and with a flick of hist tail coat. he was on his way. I was too shoacked to notice the burning glares of all the other girls, including Carlotta, who was with Pianggi according to Meg, behind me. I really wanted to hurl now.

"Alright, with that over," Md. Giry called out, "Let's get back to work, we open tonight!" We took out spots for the top of the but Meg, who is usually on the ooposite side of the stage from me, clinged to my arm and squealed again, right in my ear.

"Down Meg." I said to her, pulling my arm free.

"I'm sorry but I can't believe that just happened to right now. You have to be the liuckiest girl in the world." She was excited enough for the both us.

"Lucky me," I grumbled and told her to go to her place as M. Reyer the conductor, began to warm the pit up. The woodwinds and violins staring to soar over the overture of Chalemue's "Hannibal", right over to the first act.


	10. Chapter 10

With the pit playing, the chorus came in, although a bit pitchy at first, they sounded pretty good over all. That is, until Carlotta came screeching on her high notes over them and she sang, the dancer came charging in, leaping all over the place. The chains of the slave dancers rattling with each jump. Everything seemed to go over very smoothly, and the new managers seemed pleased at what they heard and saw, smiles on their faces. Maybe they were just eyeing the half naked dancers, but they still enjoyed it.

As Carlotta's notes soared higher and higher and more ear bleeding, I swore I saw something on the catwalk, lurking around and when I turned back, someone had screamed and the back set had come crashing down. And I found myself, for some strange unknown reason, pushing Carlotta out of it's path, landing right on top of her. Everyone came running toward us, chattering away to make sure we were okay. And instead of getting a "Thank you. You just saved my life" from Carlotta, I got this;

"GET HER OFF OF ME! SHE COULD BE DISEASED!" She wailed to in my face and to everyone around us, who just gave her funny stares. Two of the male dancers picked me up off of her as Piangi helped her up as she started to cry about how it was unfair.

"You're welcome," I grumbled as I dusted myself off. M. Frimin and M. Andre, pushed through the crowd, panic and distress all over their faces, and M. Leroux behind them who was oddly enough calm about the whole thing.

"What in dear God's name happened?" M. Andre said, his voice cracking slightly. Carlotta shook off Piangi's hand and stormed right to the new managers.

"This has been happening now for a month straight and I cannot live like this anymore!" I she yelled, wagging her finger in M. Andre and Firmin's faces. "This is the LAST straw. I quit. I am finish. I am LEAVING. Bring my belongings and go!" She screamed to her entourage, and with that, she left. She used to say stuff like this all the time, but this the first time she has followed through with what she has said. After she had left, a stunned silence fell upon everyone here. M. Leroux clapped his hands together and began to walk backwards, slowly.

"Well, good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Austria." And with that, he was gone. Just like that. No formal cermonial send off, not even a good bye. Wierd. Very strange.

"What happens now?' Firmin asked, turning to Md. Giry. She shrugged.

"Why are you asking me? I am just the dance instructor," She pointed out, walking away, "It's your job to figure that out. Not mine." M. Andre groaned, putting his hands on his face. And then he snapped his fingers, as if he found the cure for the common cold.

"Don't we have an understudy?" He said, his and M. Firmin's face lit up the tiniest bit, thinking they found that hope. But Md. Giry just scoffed at him, walking back towards them.

"She would never allow it," she said, "but as far as I'm concerned, good ridance." Both M. Andre and and Firmin looked like they were going to be sick. Or pass out, but whatever it was they looked like, it wasn't a good thing. M. Firmin began wringing his gloves in his hands.

"Oh dear God." M. Firmin said, wringing faster. If he did it any more, he was going to reducehis gloves to no more than a pile of fabric.

"Oh and by the way," M. Giry began, handing Andre a white envelope, "This is for you. It is from the Opera Ghost." There was a mix mummers in the crowd. Ever since the first "accident" and when M leroux got the first note, everyone blammed it on the "Opera Ghost". Everyone, except for me, gathered around them to see if thet could read the infamous note too.

"What??" M. Andre shouted incredgoulsy, "20,000 francs a month? Is he insane? And leave Box five open? That's our best seat in the house! Ludicrous, absolutely ludicrous." M. Giry merely just shrugged, as if it really didn't matter to her.

"Surely you can afford it, with the Vicomte as your patron." She said dryly.

"Damnit all," Andre said to M. Frimin, Andre obviously the stinger of the two, "We're going to have to cancel the galla tonight. We're going to have to refund a FULL house, Firmin! We're going to lose so much money. We're-"

"Christine Daae can do it!" Meg chirpped up. Everyone around us looked directly at me, the quizical looks making my face flush into dark shade of red.

"Who?" M. Andre said.

"Christine Daae, she's a slave chorus girl, like me." Meg said, gesturing to me. I waved weakly.

"Hello." I said meekly, waving weakly, "I'm Christine." I felt my face begin to flush even more.

"Hmm, although she is very pretty," M. Firmin began, "She is just a chorus girl. How can she possibly know-"

"She's been taught by a great teacher. Trust me." M. Giry chimed, which suprised me a little.

"It's true." Meg added. I jabbed her in her rib cage with my elbow so she would stop talking, but I was not going to have any such luck. Once she spoke her idea, there was no budging her.

"Meg," I said through clenched teeth, "What in the hell are you doing??" She just smiled at me, as if she didn't do anything.

M. Andre and Firmin sighed at the exact same time, looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. "Why not," M. Andre, "Let us see what she can do."


	11. Chapter 11

I looked at everyone around me who waited expectantly for me to sing. I wasn't some singing, performing monkey for money, for God sakes! But As I looked, I got a reassuring look from Md. Giry. So I figured, what the hell, no use couldn't fighting it. But I still felt scared, not wanting to move from my place next to Meg. I wanted to choke her.

"Come now," M. Firmin said, "Don't be shy now." I walked forward towards M. Reyer, who told out pianist to play it on the piano for me. I messed up at first, missing my cue to start, but he just played through it again and after that , my voice easily soared over the aria of the song. It sounded light and pure, and I think my angel would have been proud of me to hear it, or at least I thought so.

As I finished, there was an eerie silence, people's mouth were slightly slacked opened, and the just stared at me. Then there was uprious applause, hoots and whistles. My smile was huge, and I could barely contain my joy that I was feeling. It was all too sureal. Pinch me someone, please. It felt incredible.

"Well, I'll be damned," said, "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't heard it. Come now, go get her ready. Only few more hours until we open." And before I knew or could say anything, I was whisked away to Carlotta's private room, which I guess now, is mine. And It was enormous. How could anyone live with so much space? You probably could have fit in three of my rooms in there and still had room to spare for her mirror and was ridiculous.

I walking around and exploring when the costume person, named Jéan and makeup lady named Marie, poed their heads in a few moments to say they needed to get a few things before they came in here to wor on me. I said okay and they left. I sat down at the large vanity mirror, which was almost as long as my old bed. Gawking still. there was a knock at my door. It made me jump slightly, catching me off guard.

"Yes?" I called out.

"You have a visitor, Md. Daae," a woman I knew as Kathleen, said. The door opened, expecting to see her and someone else, except it was definitely not her. It was the Vicomte and I just wanted to hurl.

"I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your new role for tonight. And to also say what a gorgeous voice you have. The most beautiful I have ever heard in my lifetime." He said, smiling his wolf-toothed grin at me, taking a step in towards me and out of the door way. I was almost tempted to throw a vase at his head. Maybe then he would get the hint.

Instead I said, "Uh, thank you M. Vicomte, but if you'll excuse," turning my back to him, "I have to get ready for tonight. And Marie and Jéan don't like visitors when they work." I actually had no idea if they did or didn't, but it was something to say so he would leave.

"Oh, of course my sucré diva," he said, his blue eyes almost staring into my soul, which was not a pleasant feeling, "I don't want to keep you waiting. That would be very rude of me. Well, I can't wait to see you tonight. Break a leg." He left my room, leaving a trail of charming slmie behind him. I heard a gagging noise above me and laughed.

"I agree," I called out, "He makes want to just vomit." I smiled and he laughed.

"Don't I know it, but please be careful around him. Something about him makes me uneasy." He said, his tone completely serious. I nodded, agreeing with him. "But on a happier note, congratulations on the newly aqquired role, Christine."

I smiled broadly. "Thanks but I can't help but to think that you had something to do with it. Am I wrong?" There was silence, followed by a sigh of content.

"I may or may not have cut that rope which made the set piece fall. But I had no clue that you were going to push her out of the way. Nice touch." He laughed melodically. I rolled my eyes slightly.

"Thanks." I mumbled, "I think I did the right thing and that's all that matters. Anyways, she would have left either way. Which reminds me," I said, waltzing over to the side table with a bucket of cold champagne in it and popped it opened, the alcoholic fizz pouring over the top of the bottle. I poured two glasses. I set off to the side and raised my glass. "To good friends, good times and good riddance. Cheers!" I finished, gulping mine down in two swigs. "I'll leave the other one out here. Maybe you'll drink it later. That's if angels drink." I laughed as I poured a small glass for me, sipping it casually this time.

"Are you allowed to drink?" My angel asked, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"We have wine with dinner. And anyways, I'm seventeen, practically an adult." I said sitting down on my new large and extremely comfy bed.

"If you say so Christine. Now hurry up so we can warm up."

---

There was another knock at my door later after my angel and I had finished, and in walked in Jéan and Marie. "Sorry that it took so long, Christine, but **somebody**," Jéan said, looking directly at the small round make up woman who was blushing profusely, "Lost their make up bag."

"I don't understand", she said shaking her head, "I know I left it on the front of the stage and somehow it wound up in the kitchen."

"It's okay, I understand." I said, "It was probabaly one of the janitor's apprentices or something. They pully pranks like that all the time. One time I had a fake spider put in my bed." I shivered slightly. I hated spiders, with all of my being. But Marie shook her head, suddenly looking very stern.

"No, it wasn't the one of them, I'm sure of it," she said, almost in a whisper. She looked around quickly, glancing all over the room. "It was the Opera Ghost." Jéan spurted out a laugh as he got a dress bag and pulled my costume for Ellisa to try on and to alter it for me.

"Hush, Marie." He said, somewhat mumbling due to the pins in his mouth, "Don't listen to her, Christine and just put the dress on. She's being foolish." He started to tack in the sides where it hung loosely on my body. I raised my brow up slightly.

"Opera Ghost?"


	12. Chapter 12

Marie gave me a puzzled look. "You know," she said, looking around again, "He's the one who has been messing with the pit, and cutting the ropes." Jean sighed as he walked around me, still sticking pins in me.

"Oh, Marie, that is complete none sense. And you know that. Now, stop being childish and telling stories." He said. Marie looked down, blushing profusely again, but her and I both knew better. That what she was saying is true about the "Opera Ghost", minus the whole ghost thing. He's technically an angel, but she's close enough, but I can't very well tell her that. That's not my secret to tell. It's his.

So all I could say was "Oh, I see." I turn my head around so I could better see myself in the dress and how it was beginning to take shape on me. The white, soft fabric made my normally plain, pale skin, almost illuminate to a creamy peach color. I had to say, it was beautiful and I felt beautiful.

"Oh my child," Jean said, stepping back, "You look stunning and once Marie is done with your makeup, everyone will be astonished." I blushed a little. "Unfortunately, I'll have to take it in. You're not quite as... Busty as Carlotta." I looked down at my non-existent dancer's chest as he chuckled too. I wasn't completely flat, just not as robust as her. "It'll only take me ten or fifteen minutes at the most." I nodded as I slid off the dress and handed it back to him. With that, he left the room.

Marie beckoned me to sit down in front of the large vanity mirror. She rummaged through her makeup bag, digging out the right shade of foundation for me."You're more of an ivory color," she said absent minded, mostly to herself. She sighed wistfully. "I'll bet you're excited for tonight." She said, trying to create a conversation between us.

But all I said was "Mmmhmmm", as she layered the cakey makeup on my face. She just smiled and we fell silent. Her milling around, applying blush to my cheeks, charcoal eyeliner and a deep red lip color. Almost blood red, and I just sat there, quietly humming to myself, running through all of my songs. It's not like I was being cold or snobbish, I just wasn't in the mood to talk right then and there.

As Marie just finished with the last strand of curl in my hair, Jean came bursting through the doors. "I'm back and I bear gifts of good will," he chuckled, carrying in my costume, "Ta-daa!"

"Looks the same to me." Marie giggled. I half giggled too as Jean gave her a dry stare.

"Hardee har har." He said sarcastically, "Of course it's the same dress, but now it actually fits her." He said proudly, handing the dress off to me. "Now go change. Shoo!" I did what he said and put the dress on, which fit like a glove. Even in the bust. I had to say, I looked beautiful in it.

"Wow." Meg said as she waltzed into the room, her chains rattling from her costume, "I don't think I have ever seen you this beautiful and made up." She plopped right down on my new bed and took the extra glass of champagne I had saved for my angel. Jean shook his head, a tired grin on his face while Marie fixed a stray hair strand.

"You are trouble Meg. Well, break a leg Christine!" Jean said as he left the room, Marie again, following very close behind. You would think it seems, that those two were conjoined at the hips.

Meg let out a low whistle. "I can't believe it. Who would have known that Christine Daae was this beautiful and talented." Meg said, walking around me to see the full view of my dress. I laughed at her, but I did loved the way it hug my narrow hips and the white pearled straps hung on my shoulders. The clips in my long, wavy brown hair sparkled like little planets shining amongst the stars. It truly was a sight to behold, not to sound conceited or anything. "You're one lucky son of a bi-"

"FIVE MINUTES!!" Md. Giry called through the door and to everyone else in ear shot. I took a deep breath and smiled at Meg, my grin spreading from ear to ear. I was almost giddy. No. I was giddy.

"Alrighty then," I said, heading for the door, picking up the mojority of my dress in my small hands, "Shall we go?"


	13. Chapter 13

The applause was almost deafening at the end of the show, when I came back for a sixth bow with Piangi. All of the people cheered, calling out our names, flowers raining on the stage. Even the crew and Md. Giry applauded with them. The feeling was unlike any other I had felt in my life. iI really hope the Carlotta quits permanently.

I tried to get back to my new room, but there were people from wall to wall, flooding the hallway. It was nearly impossible to get through all of them, but luckily I had Md. Giry covering the front and Meg at the rear. At some point, I thought Md. Giry would have to use her cane to beat people out of the way. Fortunately, that never actually had to happen. Meg's arms were soon filled with roses, chrysanthemums, orchids, almost every kind of flower imaginable.

"Give it to Mds. Daae." They would say to Meg. I smust have said "Thank you", atleast a hundred times and my face was begining to hurt from all the smiling I was doing. Finally, when the got the door closed, I slumped down on my chair, sighing a exhausted yet a satisfied sigh.

"You did wonderful tonight." Meg said dumping the flowers onto my vanity and sat down next to me on the ground.

"You did very well, my dear." Md. Giry said, agreeing with Meg. "I am so very proud of you. And so is your mother." I beamed a huge smile at her, despite it's protest. It was so big and bright, I thought I was going to blind someone. My mother, God bless her soul, be so happy to have seen me right now. Even ecstatic. I was a bitter sweet moment for me, because now I missed her desperately. My face fell slightly, knowing she was never actually going to see me perform. Md. Giry put her hand on my shoulder, sensing my mood.

"We'll leave you be so you can slip into something more comfortable, okay?" Meg said to me.

"Sure, thanks." I said, smiling. They left and I was just about to change when there was another knock on the door. "Bloody hell." I muttered under my breath, pulling my dress back on to answer the door. It was probably just someone who wanted to congratulate me or wanted to give me flowers. Or both. With all of the flowers I was getting, I could have opened a flower shop.

I put my smile of gratitude and opened the door and a rather large bouquets of all kinds of flowers appeared before my face. "Oh", I said, obviously surprised. "Well then. Wow." It was large enough as to where I couldn't actually see who was giving me the flowers. "Wow," I said again, "Thank you."

"You deserve them, bella." I rolled my eyes as I recognized who had given them to me. I took the flowers in and set them on the ground, near the trash bin next to the vanity. "Congratulations on your success tonight- what is your name?" He asked me. I had to hold back a laugh. He has been calling on me all day and he didn't even know my name? Pathetic.

"Christine. Christine Daae." I sad dryly to him.

"Christine," He said, almost savoring my name, "What a beautiful name. It fits perfectly with it's owner." I forced a lugh. If he really think his charm could ever work on me, he had another thing coming.

"Yes," I said, not looking at him while I arranged my flowers, "I guess it does." He took a few steps in closer to me.

"My name," the vicomte said with a slight bow, "Is Raoul." And I care why? Honestly, he was beginning to get on my nerves, thinking that he was that amazing. He was so full of it.

"Well, M. Vicomte-"

"Please. You can call me Raoul." He almost purred. I wanted to vomit slightly in my mouth.

"Roaul," I said, taking his arm and began to lead him towards the door, "If you don't mind, I'm going to get changed so I can-"

"Oh, but of course," He said smiling, bearing his wolf grin, "But I will be back soon to pick you up for dinner with me and the managers." I could choke him!

I shook my head. "No thank you," I said as politely as I could, "I'm not that-"

"I will not take no for answer. It's my treat, Christine. It would make me feel bad if you turned my good gesture down." Damn him. He used the guilt trip. I agreed and he kissed my hand and said that he would be back in ten minutes. I nearly slammed the door and collapsed on the ground in frustration. That man was incorrigible!

As I pulled my hair back into a elgantly messy bun, I felt a sudden draft in the room, making the candles flutter slighty. But there's no windows in this room. In my old room yes, but not this one.

"Insolent boy, this slave of fashion, basking in your glory!" A voice rang through out the room. I smiles and laughed, knowing my angel was right. "Ignorant fool, this brave young suitor. Sharing in my triumph!" I looked around the room, spinning, trying to find the place where he sang. He seemed to fill the entire room up.

"Oh, Angel," I sighed, "I want to just.." I made a grunt of frustration as I sat down on my bed and lied back.

"I know," he said to me, "I do too, whatever your grunt meant. But why did you agree to dine with him and the managers?" There was a certain a pang of pain in his voice, like he was hurt I said yes. I shook my head.

"It's not like I had much of a choice. He used the guilt trip on me," I said, "Not like I actually want to. He was just so damn stubborn. Even more so than me, and you should know that is a feat most people can't surpass." I forced another laugh. But it's true; I was more stubborn than a mule in the alps when there is a blizzard.

"Well," he said slyly, "You don't have to go." I cocked up my eyebrow and gave a funny smirk. I laughed after a bit.

"What am I going to do? Just poof! disappear?" I said, shrugging. I heard Raoul knock at the door, and I muttered a curse under my breath. "I better go get that." I said bitterly as I walked to the door. Raoul began to bang and rattle against the door.

"Christine, open the door now. Christine!" He said, sounding a bit put off, "Who else is in there?" He tried again to open the door but it was pointless. All he could do is rattle the doorknob, and pound on the door hard with his fists. I began to walk to the door again, when I remember I never locked that door.

"Christine," my angel called out to me, "I may regret this but come with me." And as soon as he finished his last word, the large stand up mirror opened up before my eyes, and my jaw went slack. Standing before me was my angel. I could not believe it. I could not wrap my mind around the fact that my angel stood in the opening of the entrance way to somewhere dark and mysterious as he was. And before I knew it, my hand was interlocked in his gloved hand, leading down the passage way. In flesh and blood.


	14. Chapter 14

He was tall, with broad shoulders covered in an expensive looking suit that clung to every muscle on his body. His brown, shaggy hair had a messy but neat quality to it, covering the top of his brow. It was too dark to make out his face, even with the torch he carried. He kept his face forward as he continued to lead me down the dark and weaving hallway, which I noticed was slightly wet.

"Where are we?" I asked him, looking around, seeing if I could make something out in the black corridor.

''We are currently in the catacombs underneath Paris?" He said to me.

"Catacombs?" I said, slightly confused, "I didn't know Paris had catacombs."

He sighed. "They're sewers actually, but catacombs sounds better."

"Oh." Was all I said. We continued down into the catacomb (sewers?), climbing farther and deeper. It smelled musty and damp and it clung to my skin, making it feel clammy. I really wanted to ask all sorts of questions that were running through my head, but as I was about to speak, we reached a dock, where a dark colored river boat was tied off to it. My angel went in the ferry first, extending his hand to me. I grabbed his, and as I tried to get in, I tripped on the hem of the dress I was wearing. Luckily, he caught me with his strong arms, my face now pressed into his chest. I felt his beating heart, which fluttered as fast as mine, up against my cheek. I laughed nervously, and I was so happy it was too dark for him to see my blushing cheeks.

"I-I'm so sorry," I stammered, "I'm such a klutz." He just laughed light hearted at my dismay.

"Don't worry," he said softly, "I don't mind." I smiled but something in the back of my mind, began to buzz. Like rusty gears, they began to turn. From my own knowledge, angels don't have heart beats. They're not dead, but they just don't have heartbeats. I sat down quickly in the front of the boat as my mind reeled around the questions in my head, and as he pushed off from the dock.

This whole thing, it felt sureal. It was like I was in a dream, and in any minute I could sprout wings and fly away. Despite those feelings, it was all real. But here I was, in these catacombs, with some strange boy who lied to me about being my Angel of Music, running away from the Vicomte, and not telling anyone at the Opera House. What was I thinking? Apparently not a whole lot, but something in the bottom of my soul was telling me that this felt right.

I looked around, seeing him while he steered the boat and I almost gasped. I looked at his face, and there it was; The half white mask from my dreams! So that's why he was sounded so gravely serious when I told him about my dream, and what he looked because I was dead on! I wanted to ask him why he wore it, but I kept my mouth shut tightly, keeping that question for another day and time. Or maybe I'll ask him him when we get to where ever it was we were going.

"Angel?" I began, "Where are we going?" He smiled at me, and I now noticed his beautiful emerald eyes. They were breath taking, and looked at me warmly.

"You'll see soon enough. We're almost there." He smiled again. Something made me want to brush a stray strand of shaggy hair out of his face, but knowing me and my luck, if I stood up, I would make the boat capsize. And I was wearing a white dress. Not a good mix at all.

As I thought of that scenario, we approached iron gates, which I thought was a dead end, but I was way wrong. As we slowly neared them, they seemed to have magically open, leading into a cavernous room, and all around were lit candles, everywhere. I gasped at the sight of it all. The gold and red tapestry that draped some of the walls, the intricacy of the candelabras that held the candles which made the cave quite light actually, was truly amazing. As we veered closer, I saw papers scattered like fall leaves on the ground, all of which had beautiful drawings on them; Some of them of Paris, the stage, and even a couple of me..

Scattered around the most beautiful organ I had ever seen in my entire life, were bust of recently and not so recently famous composer, like Bach and Beethoven. The organ itself though, was huge made with with a dark wood that almost resembled night, and the pipes the stretched above it were polished to a luminous silver sheen, making the dancing reflections of flames, look like the stars above the dark night color of the organ.

"Welcome," he said once he got out of the boat, his arms out stretched, "To my domain of dark, music and art." He put his hand out, reaching for me so I could use it to steady myself so I could get out of the boat. "We don't want you to trip again." He laughed softly.

"Oh my God," I whispered, completely awestruck, "Did you do everything here?"

"You mean the decor?" He said, raising his eye brow high in amusement, "Yes, besides the busts and candelabras, which I bought, I made everything you see." I walked around, exploring every square inch of the place I could find, but it was enormous. He followed close behind me into two rooms, one of which a had a bed in the shape of elegant swan.

"This is amazing," I said, my voice echoing off the rock walls, "How long have you lived here?"

He thought for a moment, looking at everything, his eyes flickering back and forth. "Two years. Maybe less." He said, "I've lost track time in the first few months back." He forced a laugh, and I found myself thinking, just who was he? I wanted to ask him a well thought out question, so detailed and thoughtful, so that he answer with a detailed and thoughtful answer.

Instead, I said something so foolish, that not even a naive seven year old would ask after seeing all of this. "Why don't you live in heaven, my Angel?" I immediately wanted to kick myself for saying that. How could I be so stupid! But he just smiled sadly and sat down at his organ.

"This is why I said I might regret bringing you here, Christine." He began to say, "And as you probably already have guessed, I am not the Angel of Music. When you asked me that the first night we talked, I couldn't find it in myself to say I wasn't your Angel of Music. You sounded so earnest and hopeful. I couldn't crush your hopes.

I just wanted to help you, Christine, because your voice is simply gorgeous. I could not believe it when I first heard it, but it was going no where with you being a damn chorus girl! That's when I stepped in. I'm so sorry, Christine. I hope you can forgive me." He hung his head, turning his back to me.

"What? Why?" I asked, genuinely surprised. His head jerked up quickly and whipped his head around so fast I was surprised his half white mask stayed on. And, how did that mask stay on anyways? It seemed to defy the law of physics.

"Why am I what? Why am I sorry?" He asked, getting up and coming to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and looking me straight in the eye, "Because I **lied** to you. You must think I am some crazy psycho-lunatic who-"

"Shh." I said, putting my finger to his soft lips, "You said why you did it and I believe you." My pale blue eyes were looking straight into his emerald eyes, like how the sky meets the earth. "You've become my friend and although sometimes they make mistakes, it's alright. I don't have to forgive you because there is nothing to forgive." He was speechless, with his mouth slightly hung open. I smiled but slightly frowned for a split second, pursing my lips, but immediately smiled again. Of course, he caught the millisecond of discontent on my face.

"What?" He asked, his voice soft and slightly concerned, but I shook my head. I'll leave some questions for later.

"Nothing," I said, "It's really nothing to worry about. Trust me."

"I do," He said hugging me, "I really do." I breathed in deeply, taking in his scent of must, some type of cologne and roses. I took everything in, but something in side, was stirring inside me. Something I had never felt before. It was an odd, strange and warm feeling growing inside and when I looked up at him, who was nearly a head taller than me, and I was still in his embrace. And something came over me. His lips just looked so inviting and safe, that I just kissed him. hard, and he kissed me back too, just as had and passionate.

And when we pulled back, my head felt dizzy, like I had been spinning for a very long time, and all of the sudden, everything went black.


	15. Chapter 15

I woke up later back in my room, a cool damp cloth on my head. I sat up instantly when my eyes fluttered opened, instantly regretting doing that. I put my hand to my head, as I heard him chuckle and he actually was in my room sitting on my vanity chair. I smiled my face flushing slightly and he returned my smile, his emerald eyes seeming to dance.

"You took quite the fall, Christine," He said, smiling still but there was a line of concerned in his joking tone, "Are you okay?" I nodded.

"Yeah, just fine," I said, "But what happened after we.. You know?" He laughed again, making my heart flutter again. Why was it doing that so much? I never felt my heart do that before.

"After our close.." he struggled for the word for a second, "Encounter, you looked up at me and mouthed something keeled over. I caught you right before you could do any real harm to yourself and I brought you back here." No harm other than my pride. "And since then, Md. Giry and myself have been watching after you. Your Raoul," he said with disdain, "Has called on you multitudes of times also." I made a face, scrunching my nose slightly. God, what will it take for him to get the hint?

"Wait," I said with sudden urgency,"What time is it? How long have I been out for?" I had another performance as Ellisa tonight, and I didn't want this to effect my part tonight. He smiled crookedly, his white mask raising slightly on his left cheek.

"Do not worry, my dear," he said sweetly, getting up, walking towards my bed and sat down, "It's only noon. You've only been out for 13 hours." My mouth dropped. 13 hours?! I've never been able to sleep that long in my entire life, especially with Md. Giry's regiment of getting up at the crack of dawn, and going to be just before midnight basically. I think he could sense my confusion, and grabbed my hand and squeezed. "You're fine, Christine. Md. Giry understands and took care of everything. Everyone thinks between nerves and food sickness, was the reason why didn't come back out or answer the door." I sighed as I lied back down on the bed, feeling a great sense of relief. I stretched my legs in the big bed. It was nice to be able to move around on something with out the fear of it breaking with any sudden movement.

"What did Raoul want?" I asked, annoyed slightly, "What did he say?"

"He wanted to know why you didn't answer the door last night," he said, rolling his green eyes, "He's never been stood up. 'I don't understand it' were his exact words. Poor guy." He finished with a sarcastically sad face, making me laugh. I truly hope that he finds that as a deterrent, but somehow, I don't think he will. I think that will only make him want to persue me more. Lovely.

"He's a pig," I said, "And arrogant pig headed man." He forced a laugh in agreement, then looked at his pocket watch and heaved a heavy sighed.

"Christine, I must go for now," he said , queezing my hand again, "And when I come back, I am going to explain everything to you, about who I am. It's the least I can do for you after lying to you for this long." And with that, he got up and walked through the secret passage way in the mirror.

"Bye." I said quietly, rolling over and getting out bed slowly so I wouldn't make my head spin again. Standing up straight, honestly, felt very strange to me. My legs felt wobbly, like I couldn't get my balance. I guess that's what happens when you're out like a light and don't use them for 13 hours. That number still sounded foreign to me.

As I changed out of the dress I was wearing into my day dress, Meg came barging in, and sat down on my bed with a hop.

"It's called knocking." I said, as finished dressing myself. "I could have been naked for all you knew. I doubt you want to see me like that." She giggled and smiled, her large, wide brimmed sun hat shadowing her eyes.

"Well, maybe you should learn to lock your door, and Christine we're dancers. We change in front of each other all the time," she said, "And are you almost ready?"

"Ready for what?" I asked, trying to put my long curly hair in a bun. She sighed dramatically, throwing her arms up in exasperation, and then latched onto me in vice grip hug. I almost gasped, trying to breath.

"We're going into the city, remember?" She said with another huge smile. I smacked my forehead with my free hand as I remembered our tradition. After every first show performance, we go into the city and just walk around, looking in the window at the expensive stores, longing to be able to buy something there. It was always an adventure with Meg. We'd basically do whatever we wanted to do because it was our first day of in eight weeks.

"Oh right!" I said happily, "How could I have possibly forgotten?" I finished tying the bow of my dress and putting my hair up, grabbed my basket and headed for the door. "Let's go."


	16. Chapter 16

It was a bright, crisp fall day, the wind a bit blustery but it still was a perfect day. It felt so great to be out of that stuffy Opera House once in while. I breathed in deeply, smiling as we walked the busy streets of Paris streets. It was actually a bit busier than usual because of the farmer's market that they have once a week. We were lucky to have chosen this day, because we loved to look around all of the different carts, full of seasonal vegetables, fresh fruit, hand made things like glass work and even jewelry.

As we looked at the fruits, I noticed that my stomach began to make noises, and I felt a gnawing feeling begin to grow, remembering that I haven't eaten in a very long time. Meg began to giggled as the persistent gurgle grew louder.

"Can we get something to eat soon? I'm so hungry." I said, wrapping my arms around my stomach.

"Sure, but are you sure you're up to it?" She asked slightly wary. I gave her a funny look. She of all people should know I'm always hungry and ready for food. Despite my small dancer frame, I ate like a horse. Food had to be my second favorite thing, singing obviously first. But it was a close second.

"Of course I am. I'm always up for food." I said to her.

"But you were just bed ridden for the past God knows how many hours because of food poisoning. If that happened to me, I wouldn't want to look at food a week at least." She pointed out to me. I bit my lip, wanting to kick myself for almost forgetting the lie Md. Giry made for me for my absent.

"Yeah, I know," I said slowly, my stomsch growing louder, demanding food, "But I'll be fine. Trust me." She sighed.

"Fine, but if you vomit all over the place afterwards, don't say I didn't warn you." I rolled my eyes at her, and smiled. We walked to our favorite cafe, where they served the best tea in all of Paris. And the best benignes, croissants and any other kind of pastry imaginable. It's like heaven on earth for me.

As I drank my tea and ate my cinnamon covered benignes, Meg continued to gaze at all the young men who passed by our table outside, occasionally sharing an intimate smile that particularly caught her eye, and vice versa. Personally, I found it boring, even if some of the boys who were "cute" looked at me. A very attractive young man walked up to our table and to strike a conversation with me, talking about he saw me as Elissa in Hannibal. I just politely smiled and nodded as he spoke at a 100 miles an hour. He asked for my autograph and walked away, the napkin, stained with my name on it, clutched in his hand. Meg just gave me a look of utter disbelief.

"I can't believe you, Christine." She sighed.

"What?" I asked innocently. I didn't think I was being mean to the boy in any way. It wasn't like I was giving him the cold shoulder or anything. I thought I was very polite to him.

"You turned down a perfectly good. And a cute too," she said, "That's what." I forced a laugh.

"I don't care at all about some cute boy. They're not on my mind all the time, Meg. Unlike someone I know." I said in mock accusatory, looking at her. Meg sighed dramatically and flung her hand to her chest.

"Moi?" Meg said, in faulty aghast, "Boys could not be farther from my mind. Oh except for him." She finished, pointing towards a horse and carriage.

"Oh God," I groaned. It was the Raoul climbing out of the maroon colored carriage that had not passed too long ago. "Hide me."

"What's your problem, Christine?" Meg asked me, slightly annoyed. "If I had the Vicomte de Changy calling on me, I'd be grateful. I'd be more than grateful. I'd be praising to the Lord that the Vicomte was-"

"The Vicomte was what?" Raoul said, walking up to us, his eyebrow raised in amusement. He put his hands on the back of my chair and all the while Meg flushed profusely to a bright pink, giggling nervously.

"N-nothing." She stammered. I just rolled my eyes, a habit I aquired from being around him too much. Everything from the way walked to the last word he says, makes me want to roll my eyes in annoyance all the time. I rolled my eyes again when he flashed his teeth, white and sharp as ever, at he and looked directly down at me, making me crane my neck to see him.

"Glad to see that you are doing better, Christine." He said, too sweetly that it made me almost lose my appetite. Even with my cinnamon covered benigne in front of me. Almost.

"Yes, very much so. Thank you for your concern." I said, "And I am deeply sorry for that inconvenience to you in any way, M. Vicomte. As soon as you left, I felt violently ill and just had to lay down. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I fell asleep, which I obviously needed." I really didn't mean the apology, but it's polite to say that. And it wasn't a full out lie, I did feel sic after he left. It just wasn't because of food sickness or nerves.

"Oh, of course I understand, Christine," He said, dectecting a layer of sarcasm in his voice, "You will find that I am a very understanding person, Christine. But as grievence, will you join me for dinner tonight?" Meg's mouth almost dropped to the ground when she heard that. I smiled, but shook my head no.

"I wish I could, M. Vic-"

"Please, call me Raoul." He interjected again.

"Raoul," I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding completely annoyed, "Like I was saying, I wish I could but I just can't. I have another show tonight and I am still recovering from my food illness." I said, reaching for my my cinnamon covered benigne and took a bit of it. "Maybe some other time?" Probably not though. I felt a bit smug for once again being able to weasle myself out of another dinner with him. I was getting very good at this.

But I saw in his eyes a hint of jealousy and a glint of determination. He sighed, and shook his head, a wied grin on his face that only I saw.

"Don't fret," he said, "I am a patient man. I'll change the reservation for another time when it's more favorable to you. Good day to both of you." He bared his wolf, Don Juan smile and was on his way back to his carriage. Meg let out a low whistle.

"Wow," she said, "You lucky dog you."

"Lucky?" I scoffed, "Well, I'd rather be cursed if that means I don't have some guy stalking me." She grunted in dissaproval and I rolled my eyes at her. "Whatever," I said, "And anyways, I have other things on my mind." Meg immediately moved closer into me. Of course she would want to know not only as a friend, but as the gossip of the Opera Populaire. "I don't want to talk about it right now."

She made a face at me. "Fine." She simply said, folding her arms across her chest.


	17. Chapter 17

I was finishing up my peppermint tea, when I saw a police man putting up a sign, on a post across the street. Curiosity got the best of me and before I knew it, I was walking over to him and the sign. There was a sketch of a boy, not too much older than Meg or I, facing forward, his eyes scared and wide. Underneath his left eye, was a scar that ran down from the bottom of his eye to the middle of his cheek. Underneath his picture it read:

Erik Devereaux  
Age: Now presumed 19  
6'0 tall with green eyes  
Brunette  
Distinguished scar on left side of face  
Wanted for the murder of  
Sophia Devereaux, two years ago, 1868

My heart rose to the middle of my throat as I continued to look at the poster of a boy wanted for murder. "When did this happen?" I asked, to no one in particular.

"Two years ago. Can you believe it?" The officer said, finishing putting up other flyers like that one, "Killed his own sister. I hear it was because he didn't like her fiance." He bid me good day, shaking his head and walked away. I was left there, staring at the flyer, my mouth slightly open.

"Yeah, you didn't know that happened?" Meg casually said as she walked up behind me. "You're so out of everything."

"No," I said quietly, "I didn't know that happened." I couldn't believe what my eyes in what they were reading. I kept shaking my head no, saying to myself that it isn't happening. That it was all some bad dream that I was going to wake up from and find out that I didn't know this boy. But the truth of the matter is, I now knew what my mysterious boy's name was. Who claimed and then confessed that he was not my Angel of Music. His name was Erik and everything went dark again.

---

"Christine... Christine!" A shrill voice said, "Wake up!" I groaned, squinting my eyes shut tight. It was far too bright and loud for wherever I was. "Oh thank God, you're awake. What the hell is your problem, Christine? Don't ever scare me like that again." I turned over, nearly falling off the bed. Just then, I realized that I was in my bed, and not on the street.

"How did I end up here?" I asked her groggily, still trying to figure what exactly happen.

"The Vicomte brought back here in his carriage after you fell, and carried you up here." She said, sighing a little, "Isn't he heroic?" She smiled dreamily, as my head just throbbed and whirled around with so many questions. Was **he **Erik? The boy who killed his own sister? If he is, then is he trying to kill me? For what game, for what reason? It was all just too confusing. I just can't understand any of it. I wanted to be alone, to try to comprehend everything going on in and out of my head.

"What time is it?" I asked Meg randomly.

"It's only two, so you have a few hours to rest before the show, although," She said, biting her lip, "You may be a slave girl again." Just then, I realized that I was back in my old, cramp, and dank room with the window.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my eye brow rising, my stomach suddenly turning.

"Carlotta came back this morning while we were gone, demanding her to be put back in the show, with her original role and for them to renew their contract with her for the next season. She kept screaming that it was an outrage for you, a slave girl, to play her part, and that she won't have some ghost scare her off with some empty threat note. Not sure what that means." She said, shaking her head. "You were so much better than her. My ears didn't ring after you sang."

I smiled at her. "Thanks, but I don't mind if I don't go on tonight as Ellisa." I said quietly. My head was still slightly spinning still. "What can you tell me about this Erik Devereaux?" I asked her, knowing that she had the latest gossip, even if it was from two years ago.

"Why do you want to know?" She asked me. I shrugged my shoulders, trying to act nonchalant, while all of me wanted to know so desperartely badly.

"Just curious. It sounds like a good story." I said, hoping she'd buy it. She pondered for a few moments, drumming her fingers on the bed. That was her signature think stance: Sitting statuesque, looking off, and drumming her fingers against any hard surface her little fingers could find. Oh, she would also hum to herself if she was really thinking hard about it.

"Hmm, it was such a long time ago, but from what I remember," She began, the gears in her head beginging to turn, "Erik Devereaux was a stage hand here actually for a while, and lived not too far from here. He had a sister named Sophia. Pretty little thing, would always come to the shows here." She paused for a moment, trying to remmember more. "Oh! She was actually engaged to someone, but I can't remember who he was, but what I do remember is that Erik did not like him. Not one little bit."

"A stage hand? Really? How come I don't remember him?" I asked, not really to her. It was more or less a rhetorical question. "How long was he here for?"

"For a long time, up until that whole thing happen. He started working here when we were probably seven or eight. So about six or seven years." She said, "But you should remember him." I cocked my head to the side, giving her a funny look.

"Why should I rememeber him?" I asked, competely confused.


	18. Chapter 18

Meg just stared at me for a few moments, her face a bit scrunched in confusion. She opened her mouth to say something but then shut it again. Very rare for her to do that.

"You don't remember?" Was all she asked me. I continued to look at her, my eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

"Remember? Remember what?" I asked her, getting more and more annoyed because clearly I did not remember what she was trying to get me to remember. She bit her lip and smiled slightly. At least that means it could be a good thing, I suppose.

"Well," She began, "You used to have the biggest crush on him." My mouth hung slightly open. I didn't remember him at all or even the fact that I had feelings for him. "Really?" I mouthed to her, the words not coming to my lips. Meg just nodded and sighed.

"It was such a long time ago, you were probably like twelve or something. You would watch him work everyday, whenever you got the chance. Building the sets, taking care of the animals-"

"And I thought he had the prettiest hair!" I exclaimed, finishing her sentence, laughing nervously, now that I finally remembered him.

"See?" Meg said with a smile, her hand on my knee, "I knew you would remember. Just need some probing by yours truly. Well, I'm going down to the studio to stretch before the show and then go get change. Want to come with me, Christine?"

"Thanks, but I'll be there in a little bit. I still feel a bit light headed." I said. Meg just shrugged, wave good by and left my room. My old, crappy, dinky, small room. Although disappointed by the fact that I was going back to being a dancer, it didn't even begin to compare to the confusion that was stating to swirl in my head. I just couldn't believe I forgot all about Erik Devereaux, the cute stage hand, who just so happens to be my "Angel of Music", who just so happens to be a possible murderer!

And I knew why I the feelings in my stomach, why I always felt and acted foolish around him. It was because I liked him. Maybe even loved him, like the way he loves me. And there was a part of me kept telling me that wasn't possible that he's a cold blooded killer. He's much too sweet and compassionate to hurt anything, much less kill anyone, especially not his own sister. I see it when he looks at me, when he talks to me, the way he holds me. It's the emotion of a human being, not a murderous psychopath.

I think that's why he wears his mask, to hide his true self from the world. Because he didn't want me to be afraid of him, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. I felt so safe and guarded when I was with him. Oh, I couldn't wait to see him now, now that I understood everything. It was all so clear to me finally. But it would have to wait to see him, for now, I had a performance to do.

---

"Places everyone! Places!" Md. Giry called out as the strings and woodwinds began to tune to their ideal perfect pitch. Everyone kept murmuring "mearde" to each other, others doing some hail Mary's as Carlotta came stomping onto the stage, ready to be in the lime light once, casting a cold, hard glare at my direction as we dancers got into our places. her entourage, including Jean and Marie, were following close behind her, crowding her with their final touches. The curtains rose and the show began as the dancers leaped forward, flying into the air, their chains rattling around our ankles and wrists.

As I twirled, I could see the Vicomte in Box 5. Bad choice on his part. Erik won't be happy, not at all and at that thought, I chuckled to myself at the Vicomte.

The chorus came in next, singing the opening song as the overture finished, belting over the cacophony of the instruments. Then all a went silent as Piangi stepped forward, his tenor voice booming in the theater with his solo. The chorus began again, Carlotta's solo flying over the noice. But her solo was shot lived.

"DID I NOT INSTRUCT, THAT BOX 5 WAS TO BE LEFT, EMPTY?" A booming voice crypitcally said, that stopped the entire show in its' tracks. A few of the chorus girls screamed in terror.

"It's him! the Phantom of the Opera!" They squealed together as if on cue. Me, I just smiled to myself, from ear to ear.

"It's him. He's back." I whispered happily to myself. Unfortunately, I was too close to Carlotta for her liking.

"You are a dancer. Your part is SILENT, little toad." She hissed at me like a feral cat protecting its' territory. She whipped her head around, and barked at Marie as the pit and the audience quieted down. Marie scurried to Carlotta, her signature voice serum in hand. I have no idea what the stuff is. All I know is that it smells awful, like lemon, vinegar and garlic. Rancid lemon, vinegar and garlic.

As I went back to my spot, I glanced back at Box 5, but the Vicomte was not there. Strange, maybe he went to the little rich boy's room.. Or maybe he finally heeded Erik's warning and went to find a different seat.

M. Reyer began the pit where they left off, the chorus started again, the dancers danced their dance again and Piangi sang his tenor solo once again. But when Carlotta sang her screeching aria, there was something distinctly different.

"_Ahhhh.. Ahhh!! AHHH-_**CROAK!!"**The entire theater went silent, trying to hold back their laughs. Quiet murmurs started to sound, the giggle fits and then finally full fledged laughter erupted in the whole place. The dancers, stage hands, actors, singers, musicians and the audience especially, were all laughing hysterically at her. She tried to sing again, but every time she would open to sing, her throat would admit the awful noise. It sounded like a sick frog.

"Perhaps it is you, who is the toad." I whispered to Carlotta in her ear. She spun around and gave me a blazing stare, her eyes lit with the fire of hatred. I just smiled at her. She screamed in embarrassment and anger, storming off stage, while everyone was still laughing at her. The curtains closed while everyone around still howled with laughter, doubling over because our sides hurt so much. I couldn't breath because I was laughing so hard.

I heard thumping on the stage, which could only mean people were trying to climb on to the stage, and my guess would Andre and Firmin.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please settle down now," Firmin said, a little out of breath. Yup. My guess was right. "The uh, performance," Firmin began, stumbling with his words, "Will begin in ten minutes time, with the role of Elissa played by Mmd. Daae!" I was immediately grabbed by my arm and dragged in front of the crowd of cheering people, whipping the tears off their cheeks and eyes.

Firmin pushed me back through the curtains, inot the care of Jean and Marie agains. "Get her into makeup and costume, pronto!" He said to them.

"Monseir," Jean said, "We are going to need more time. It's going to take us a bit to get her all ready." M. Andre just groaned as his response.

"Just have the dancers do the dance from Act III do it now." I suggested. Both Andre and Firmin just shrugged exasperately, saying it was better than nothing.

"Just go now!" Andre said as they swept me to Carlotta's room to change.

Before leaving the stage area, I caught a glimpse at my dear friend, prowlling in the shawdows. He turned to me quickly and winked at me, climbing up the cat ladders. I returned the favor to him with a big grin on my face, mouthing "thank you", to him.


	19. Chapter 19

I dressed into the first layer of my costume, which was a simple white dress, as quickly as I could, all the while Jean and Marie were trying to put make up and do my hair. They never got to finish.

Screams of fear and sheer panic began to erupt in the hallways outside the doors, and one the dancer, I think it was Saraphine, came barging into the room, tears and mascara streaming down her face. She was no older than 13 or 14. The poor girl's make up was smeared on her face, with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It's horrible!" She wailed, "The Opera Ghost killed the stage manager!"

"Joseph Bouche is dead!?" Jean said, dropping make up brush in his hand, powder spilling on the floor. Marie looked like she was going to keel over any minute. She was white than my bed sheets and my sheets are stark white. "What? How??"

"He hung him," She sobbed out of fear, coming into the room, falling at my feet, her face buried in my my dress. "He hung him from the rafters. Oh God!" She sobbed harder into my dress. I rubbed her head, trying to calm her down. I didn't care that her black mascara was staining my white dress. It could be washed. I just tried to calm her down.

"Shh, shh," I cooed, comforting the poor thing, "Settle down, Saraphine. It must have been an accident, or something. The Opera ghost couldn't have done it."

"It couldn't have been an accident!" She sobbed harder, lifting her head to look into my eyes, "If it were an accident, how could have a noose tied around his neck? A rope cannot tie noose around someone's neck by itself!" She began to quiver and shake slightly.

"Everything will be okay." I said to her, running my hand through her hair to comfort her, "I promise you, okay?" I knew everything was okay, that Erik could not have possibly... Kill Joseph. No. It had to be an accident or something else. Maybe someone else. I didn't know and I intended to find out. I needed to find Erik before someone else found him. I needed to ascertain the situation.

"Excuse me for a moment," I said getting up and leading Saraphine to my bed, "Give her some water Jean. And some to Marie. She looks like she needs it." I ran out of the room, grabbing my black shall and mademy way into the chaos that was ensuing outside the room. People, actors, singers, dancers and stage people alike, running everywhere. Some of the screaming, yelling, some crying and praying and doing "Hail Mary's".

"Oh God," I whispered to myself. I ran around, making my way through walls of people, around the entire back stage, looking for Erik. I just had to find him and talk to him, so I could make sense of it all. To know myself that he did _not_kill Joseph. While running further back, I accidentally collided with the Vicomte.

"Oh, excuse me, Raoul," I said, trying to continue on, "I didn't mean to run into you." I tried walking away from him, but he caught my arm, stopping me in my tracks, his tight grip almost hurting my arm.

"What are you doing back here?" He asked me, as almost as he was accusing me of something. But I could have asked the same question to him. What would the Vicomte de Changy be doing this far back behind the stage. _I'm _not even supposed to be back this far behind stage, and _I _live here. Seems a bit strange for him.

"I should be asking you that question, M. Vicomte." I retorted back. "You're not even supposed to back stage, much less be this far back. And besides, you being the Vicomte and somewhat important, should you not be somewhere safe and out of harm's way?" He seemed a bit flustered with my question.

"I-I," He stumbled trying to find the right words, choosing them carefully, "I was looking for you. To see if you were alright."

Liar. But I'll just have to deal with him later to get the truth.

"Uh, thank you," I said, shaking my arm free, "But I was just looking for.. Saraphine! She ran this way. Oh the poor girl, she's so scared,. I'm like her big sister, so I have to find her." I ran away as fast as I could before he could offer to help me to "find Saraphine".

I ran passed the stair case that lead up to the roof, when someone grabbed me, clamping a hand over my mouth to muffle my terrified screams. I tried pulling away, squirming in his tight grip.

"Sh!" It was Erik. Oh thank heavens! I relaxed in his arms and turned to look at him, his eyes wide and terrified. "It wasn't me, I promise I didn't-"

"Hush." I said to him, putting my finger on his lips, "I know you didn't." I smiled warmly to him, even among the chaos around us. I took his hand and began to run up the stairs. "Come one, let's go somewhere else before the _Phantom_ is caught."


	20. Chapter 20

We climbed the stairs, leading to old oak door that creaked with age, with its' rusty, brass door knob, that opened to the safe haven of the roof. The winter night air of early December was brisk and biting, raising goose-pimples on my arms and the bare part of my chest. The snow started falling lightly, making little star-lites in my chestnut brown hair and Erik's ashy brown hair. His half white mask was as bright as the half crescent moon that dimly light the night sky.

I closed the door behind me, making sure that no one followed us, looking both ways. "Okay," I said with a sigh of relief, "I think we're good now. I don't think anyone followed us."

"Christine," Erik said to me, almost pleadingly, "I swear to God I did not kill Joesph Bouche!" He began to pace around the roof, ranting more to himself than me. "Oh God, I just don't know what to do! You must think I'm lying or I don't-"

"Erik!" I said loudly, stopping him and his panicked rant. He stopped in mid stride and just looked at me, with shock written all over his face. Oh God, what did I do now?

"What did you call me?" He said in an almost inaudible whisper. I took a deep breath and walked towards him, until I was only about a foot away from him. His eyes kept darting all over me, trying to figure out how I could have possibly known his name was Erik Devereux.

"Your name is Erik, is it not?" I asked strong and yet timidly at the same time. He just just continued to look at me, his face was a mix of horror and confusion. "I figured out your name who you really are today when I was in the city. You used to work here as a stage hand when I was younger. I used to watch you all the time when you worked and even though you were older than me, I hoped that one day that you would notice me. But then you disappeared, and I forgot who were up until recently." There was an silence between us. I think he was still in shock, intently listening and staring at me with his emerald eyes, looking like they were going to spill over with tears any second.

A few tears did fall onto his cheek, and he gave me a weak smile, turning his back to me, walking towards the edge of the roof that over looked the Paris skyline. His shoulders slumped, and heaved such a heavy sigh. He shook his head slowly, putting his face into his hands. How I wish I could see what was going on through his mind then, what thoughts he was having. All I wanted to do was comfort him, that everything would be alright now. That I understood everything. i only wanted him to be happy, like how I was whenever he was with me. He always gave me a sense of safety and comfort when he was a round me.

"Then you must know how I 'killed' my sister. But I did not kill her. I loved my sister, Sophie with everything that I had. She was all I had left." He said the last part so quietly that I could barely him over the wind that had begun to pick up every so often. "I don't know who killed her. I found her on the ground when I came home from working in the theater that day. I'll never forget that day for the rest of my life.

"I saw her on the floor of her room, her lifeless body slumped next to her bed. I ran over there to try and revive her, but there was no life in her once lively heart. There were marks around her neck, so I assumed that she had been strangled.

"Her fiance wasn't home, which I found strange. He didn't work at all, Daddy paid for everything, so he would be at our house all day, spending it with her, and went back to his mansion at night. But he was no where to be seen." He sighed heavily again and turned to me, his eyes swelling with tears still. More tears fell upon his cheeks, glistening in the pale moon light. These weren't tears of a monster or a murderer. These were the tears that belonged to a man that loved his sister. So, how could he have possibly killed his sister. It just didn't seem possible to me.

"Erik," I said, walking to him, taking his face in my hands, making him look directly into my eyes, "I know you didn't kill Sophie. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. I hear it in your voice when you sing to and I feel it when you touch me and hold me." I smiled, brushing a stray hair put of his beautiful eyes. "But if you didn't kill her, then who did?"

He pursed his beautiful lips, thinking for a moment. "I have an idea. My sister's fiance had a bit of a nasty temper. Whenever he got angry to the point of being furious, he would turn violent. Often throwing chairs and small tables and hit.." He groped for the right word, "Things."

"Oh," I said quietly, knowing what he meant. "So you think that he..?"

"Yes, but I don't have any solid proof." He said bitterly. He forced a hard laugh. "Not that anyone would believe me anyways."

"Who was your sister's fiance?" I asked, curious more than anything, trying to see if maybe I could be of some help.

"You'll never believe it but," he said, pausing slightly, "It was Raoul, the Vicomte de Changy. Your Patron." I gasped. No, it just couldn't be.


	21. Chapter 21

"No." I whispered.

"Yes. That's why I told you to be careful around him." He told me, concern dripping in his voice. I walked away from Erik, to the center of the roof, trying to take that information in and putting together what I may or may not know about Raoul.

He disappeared, I remembered, tonight during the performance. I thought maybe he had just gone to the bathroom or something, but he was behind the stage tonight. Why, for what reason? Could he had possibly been the one who could killed Joesph? Just to frame the "Opera Ghost"? But why? I prayed to God that he hadn't figured out that Erik and the Phantom of the Opera were one of the same person. I know he gives me a bad feeling,he has since the first moment my eyes saw him, but could that be because he's a killer, could it?

"How did you figure it out?" Erik asked me, catching me off guard a bit.

"What?" I asked him.

"How did you figure out me? Who I am?" He said. I explained to him when I went downtown earlier that day, I saw a wanted poster of a kid who was looked almost identical to him, except he looked a bit younger. The Erik in front of me, who was only 19, had the face of an older man who has been through alot in his life. And on the poster, it had said his name, 'Erik Devereux', and then Meg helped me remember him after all these years and everything just seemed to fit afterwards.

"They have wanted posters of me now?" He asked incredgiously, running his hand worriedly through his hair. "That bastard knows I'm still alive and here after three years. I thought they would have given up by now. You know, it was Raoul who first accused me of her death." I figured as much, and yet another reason why I he, and now I, think that Raoul killed Sophie. I shivered from that thought and from the wind that had begun to pick up again, the snow still falling around us.

"You must be freezing, Christine." He said, coming towards me.

"No, I'm fine. I swear." I protested through chattering teeth. "Well, maybe just a little bit."

"Here," He said softly, wrapping me in his warm embrace, "Let me warm you up. After all, it is my fault why we're up here in the cold." I laughed nervously at first, a little cautious to have him so close to me, with my heart fluttering so fast. I leaned my body against his, my head on his chest, which felt so right to me. And warm. And his heart was beating just as fast as mine, like the first time we actually met., which was a comforting thought to me. He was just as nervous as I was.

"Thanks," I sighed happily. I kept my cheek agianst his chest, his chin resting on my head. We both were silent for a monent, not caring what was happening inside the Opera House. It really didn't matter to me now.

"Your hair smells nice," Erik said abruptly, making me laugh. "Like lilacs."

"Thanks," I said again, looking into his eyes, "You have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen, Erik. Truly, you do." Our gaze was locked with each others, the electricity flying through the air between us. "I only wish I could see your face. Your_ whole _face" I added before he could say I was already looking at his face. "I want to see all of you. Without the mask."

"Why?" He asked, almost exasperatedly, "Why would you want to see my ugly face?" I laughed at him. He was being completely ridiculous right now, he couldn't be ugly, even if he tried. He will always be beautiful in my eyes, no matter what. "Why are you laughing?'

"Because," I said, still smiling, "You couldn't be farther from the truth. You are beautiful. And you don't need to hide from me anymore." And as I finished that sentence, I tore off his mask, and truly looked at him. There was nothing different except for the scar, like in the wanted poster of him, that ran from under his emerald eye to the middle of his left cheek. And yet, not even that could distort his beautiful face. Little pools of water began to gather in his eyes again, but there was a smile, prowling on his lips. I think he was finally happy he didn't have to hide from me anymore, because he didn't scare me off. I'm not going anywhere with out him, anytime soon.

"You don't think I'm repulsive?" He asked, smiling still, his eyes lighting up. I laughed again.

"Just the opposite," I said to him, wrapping my arm around his neck and back, "Quite the opposite." I felt tears slowing pooling over in my eyes too. He wipped a tear that slid onto my cheek and just looked at me, with a look in his eyes that just seemed to say "I'll be here always." And I never wanted that look to go away.

"Christine, can I ask you something?" He said. I nodded 'yes', still in his warm embrace. "Well, actually, I'm not asking you something. I'm more or less telling you something." I smiled with a small giggle. It was usually me who got flustered, so it was nice to see his cool, calm exterior waver a bit. "Christine," He said, taking a breath in, "I love you. I always have. Why else would I come back here, only to risk being caught?' I love you!" I perhaps smiled the biggest smile any girl could have smiled, because at that exact same moment, I know that he was telling the truth and I knew with all of my heart, that I loved him too.

"Truly Erik?" I asked, just for laughs. He let out a laugh of pure happiness.

"Yes, Christine!" He said, picking my light frame up, twirling me around the roof, my dress floating around, "I love you, I love you and only you."

"I love you too, Erik, I have since the first time I kissed you." He then pulled me close to his face, and kissed me with such passion and love, that I think it would put all other kisses in history to shame. "Wait. That's a lie." I said, with a wry smile. His face scrunched with confusion. "I have loved you since the first time you sang to me." He smiled his breath taking smile, making my heart melt. There was something so angelic about him and his gorgeous face. He was so beautiful. I wanted this feeling for forever.

"Erik?" I said, taking a deep breath in, swallowing hard, "Will you be by my side? Will you stay with me forever?" His face lit up like a firework, his eyes the brightest I had ever seen them in my life. I wanted this more than anything in life. To have someone who will love me and I can love back. To feel safe and protected no matter what. It was the best feeling in the entire world and I wanted to keep it forever, with him.

"Yes, of course, Christine!" He exclaimed to me. He ran to the edge of the roof, and stood on the ledge of the building towards the Paris skyline. "I love Christine Daae!" He yelled at the top of his lungs, flinging his arms out wide. I ran up behind him, worried sick if he were to fall.

"Get down," I laughed, "Before you kill yourself!" He jumped down and scooped me up again, dancing and twirling with me all over the roof. He laughed his old melodic laugh and I just smiled and laughed along with him.

"Or should I say Christine Devereaux?" He asked, his eyebrow raised, smiling. "We'll leave Paris and start a new life some where far away from here. Maybe in London, or even America, who knows? But first I have to finish up a few things, to get ready for our life together."

"Sounds like heaven to me," I said, leaning up against him again, my head in chest, taking a deep breath sigh of content. He smelled wonderful. Must, roses and that same cologne that I still can't figure out, but it smelled wonderful just the same. i looked up at him and he kissed me on my nose and looked at me warmly, his beautiful eyes full of passion. I truly love him.


	22. Chapter 22

Erik sighed, and laughed, his voice was like soft, warm velvet in my ears. I have never seen him so in peace in all the time I have known him. He was beautiful when he was like this. But that look was quickly replaced with something else. And he sighed again. I wish this night could stay like this for forever.

"Christine," he said to me, "I love you so much that it hurts when I'm not around you, but unfortunately, I have to leave for a while. But I will write to you everyday that I am gone." My faced dropped a bit, along with the fantastic mood I was in. "I wish I could see you tonight. I know you will do wonderfully."

"You're leaving?" I said, pointing out the obvious. He smiled, rolling his eyes a bit, but I just laughed at him.

"Yes, not for long. I promise."

"Where are you going?"

"I can't tell you that right now," he said, "But it will help us in the end. Md. Giry will give and take all the letters between us. I just can't risk anything, now that I have you in my life." He kissed me again. "Now, go back and do your show. I think your audience is missing their _Elissa."_ He was pushing me towards the door to the stairs. "Everything will be okay, promise."

"But how will I know-?" I asked as I turned around, but he disappeared. "Damn him," I muttered with a laugh, "Just like him to do this. I shouldn't expect anything different." I looked around the roof, trying to find him but all I found was a single red rose with a black, satin ribbon tied around the stem with an envelope attached to the stem. Picking it up, I noticed that it was heavier than what it looked like, so I ripped the envelope open and read the note inside.

_'Something to remember me by.  
__O.G, Your Angel'_

Something to remember him by? How could I ever forget him, but I looked inside anyways and found what had to be the most beautiful ring I had ever seen in my entire life. It was simple, though, just a gold ring with princess cut diamond with two little emeralds on both sides. It was still beautiful though. Anything from him would be. I put it on my left hand, my ring finger and just admired it for a few seconds, it loked elegant and graceful on my hand. I sighed happily, though the ring was a bit big for me, but I didn't care.

"I do." I whispered, smiling as I left the roof. I headed for the door again and opened it to find the Vicomte's ear glued to the door.

"Raoul?" I asked in disbelief, "What are you doing here?" He straightened up very quickly, brushing himself off as he flushed bright red with embarrassment. He ran his hand through his slick black hair as I stood there waiting for an answer.

"I-uh.." He started out, "I followed you up the stairs to see if you needed any help. Did you ever find poor Saraphine?" He closed the door behind me, his voice dripping in what I thought as sarcasm.

"N-no," I stammered, "I just got up here to look for he and-"

"Who were you talking to?" He asked me, inching himself closer to me, putting his arm up over my shoulder, blocking my only exit. Damn him.

"I was talking to no one. But I was calling for Saraphine, if that's what you mean." I said too quickly for even myself to believe. I tried to find my means of escape. I began to feel claustrophobic, with hims so near me, especially after what I learned about and what he could be possibly capable of. I felt cornered, that the walls were slowly coming into me.

"But I heard another voice-"

"There you are Christine!" Meg exclaimed to me, running up the stairs towards us, "Where have you-?" She stopped in mid-run and mid-sentence, looking at the Vicomte and I. The way Vicomte and I were positioned. She got a particularly naughty smile stretching across her face. "Oh okay. I got it now. Well, come on Christine," She said as she winked and grabbed my hand, "The show must go on!" We left the Vicomte, bewildred and blushing madly as we ran down the stairs.

I was blushing furiously as we scurried off into Carlotta's room to get changed. How could she have ever thought of that. I would never.. Ew.

"Meg," I said, "It's not what you think it is. I would never-"

"Oh you lucky dog, you. Don't try to deny it." She squealed to me. Jean and Marie just stared at us, confusion forming on their faces. I shook my head and took a deep breath, a sign saying 'Don't worry about it.' I gave a look to Meg that said 'Speak-of-this-to-anyone-and-I'll-tell-everyone-what-you-did-with-Jean-Paul-under-the-stage-two-weeks-ago.' Her eyes grew large, meaning that she understood what my eyes were saying. She crossed her heart. I smiled at her.

Some one knocked on the door asked if I was back in here changing, to which I yellled back yes I was. If everything went accordingly, the show would start up again in a matter of a few minutes. I sighed happily as Jean tugged at my hair and Marie applied more blush to my cheeks.

"Christine?" Meg asked me, her eyes wide, "Where did you get that ring?" I looked down at my hand and gasped. I completely forgot that the ring was still on my finger. Oh, crap.

Meg snatched my hand and closely examined the small cut diamond, with emeralds dotting the side. "It's so beautiful. Is it real?" Jean and Marie stopped what they were doing and joined Meg at gawking my finger. I was beginging to get annoyed with this. I snatched my hand back.

"Let's stop this nonesense and get me ready, okay?" I snapped at them. Marie and Jean just nodded, going back to their work. Meg shot me a look that said 'You-better-tell-me-sooner-or-later. I-have-been-your-friend-for-years!' I just shook my head and sighed, nodding to her which seemed to satisfy her for now.

There was another knock at the door. More pounding if anything. "Is she ready yet?" Asked a very frantice M. Firmin.

"Yes," I called out to him, "Just two minutes." I was walking to the door and I turned around to Marie and Jean. "Thank you both so much for helping tonight." I opened the door and walked out on to the stage, the audience finally calming down. I just hope and pray that Erik is safe. Where ever he might be.


	23. Chapter 23

Three weeks have passed since I saw Erik last on the roof. Three weeks since the "incident" occurred. That's what we were supposed to call it, according to M. Andre and Firmin. It was just an accident, although we all knew better. He was murdered, and everyone, excluding me, Md. Giry, thought it was the "Opera Ghost". Raoul especially distilled that thought in the minds of everyone. He had policemen surrounding the place at all times. Although, his persistence never let up.

He was still hounding me and hounding me, asking for me to go with him to dinner, or a carriage ride in the park or something like that. My answer was and will always be the same: "No". I don't like him, nor will I ever. Anyways, I love Erik.

Yes, I love him. I know I do. There isn't any other feeling I could feel other than love. It's like nothing I have ever felt in my life. I just feel so rejuvenated and alive again. I love him, and I know he loves me.

But in those three weeks, everyone began to notice that the accidents that used to happen, like set pieces falling, were at a halt. Carlotta came back to the company and took back her old job as Miss Diva Extraordinaire, although, it was obvious that everyone liked me better. So to appease Carlotta and the people, her and I switched who would play lead. I would usually do the matinee shows, while she would work at night. I didn't mind.

The thing that got me through not seeing Erik, was receiving letters from him. From where ever he was. Every other day or so, Md. Giry would leave an envelope in my room on my bed. They always smelt of must, roses and salt. Maybe he was by an sea? I didn't know, nor did I care. I just loved reading his notes and letters. They were completely vague, though, never telling me where he was or what he was doing. Only that he loved me, thought of me everyday and that he couldn't wait to see me again. The feeling was definitely mutual.

After rehearsal one day, I was sitting on my bed, reading a note that I had gotten earlier in the week from Erik, when Meg came barging into my room.

Now, I hadn't told Meg about Erik at that point. I tried keeping it secret so that he keep hidden from the world. He was still under a lot of heat because of the "incident". I must have not heard her come in because as I was reading my note, she came up and snatched it from me, and began to read it aloud.

"'My Christine,'" She began in a mocking, masculine voice, "'There has not been a single day where I have not thought about you, my love..' My Love?" She looked at me, her eyebrow cocked up. "Christine, what is this? Who's Erik?" I bit my lip, my eyes looking at the floor. My stomach was being bombarded with butterflies. I didn't know what to do; she had caught me red handed. I had no choice but to tell her everything.

I told her about Erik, and how he was my "Angel of Music" but not really. I told her about the catacombs underneath the Opera Populaire. I even told her how her mother knew this before she did, which she didn't take well. But after a few minutes of telling her that I promised her mother and Erik I wouldn't tell, she calmed down.

"Wait," She said, "Is he the one everyone thinks is the Opera Ghost? The one who murdered Joseph!"

"Shh!" I told her, "Don't scream it!" Then I went on telling her that it was NOT Erik who killed Joseph, that it was someone else. She asked who, I lied and said I didn't know. Well, it was technically the truth; I didn't have proof that it was Roaul for sure and also, I didn't want to scare her. Although, I did tell her that I did not like how Raoul was acting lately. I told her to be careful around him.

"Why?" She asked me.

"I don't know," I said, "I just don't have a good feeling about him. I never have." She nodded, understanding what I meant. In the last couple of weeks, Raoul has been pestering me more and more. Always watching me where ever I go. He said that he was "worried" for my safety. Ha! That's ironic.

"What's it like, Christine?" She asked me vaguely, lying on my bed.

"What's what like?"

"Love. What does it feel like?" She asked dreamily, turning over on her stomach. I thought for a minute, trying to put into words all the wondrous things I felt toward Erik and how love felt to me. It was difficult to put into words aloud. It was easier thinking of them in my head.

"Uh, well," I started, "Love is.. Well, it feels like.. Uh, it's like..? Oh damn, I don't how to say it. It just feels good. Amazing in fact." She gave me a dry stare. "What? I'm sorry I can't describe it in words. You just have to be in my head to get it." She laughed.

"For knowing you as long as I have, I should be able to get into your head," She said with a smile,"But you are funny one, Christine. You're all over the place. In a good way, though." She added quickly when she saw my scrunched face from confusion. Then I smiled, softening my expression and she smiled too. She got up and walked over to my door, which was still open from her barging in. She closed and gasped.

"Are you wearing this to the masquearade tonight? It's gorgeous Christine!" She asked me as she tugged at my purple and blue ball gown. That's tonight! Oh, good Lord, I had completely forgot that it was.

"I guess so," I said with a nervous laugh, "Actually, I had forgotten that it was tonight. Completely slipped my mind." She gave me a look of disbelief and I shrugged innocently.

_Knock, knock_! "Christine?" Said an all too familar male voice. I groaned quietly to myself, as Meg giggled.

"Go answer the door," She said, "It would be rude to keep M. Vicomte waiting." I gave her a hard glare and she just giggled more. I walked to my door and opened it slightly, just enough to poke my head out to see Raoul standing in front of my door, with another bouquet of random flowers.

"Yes, M. Vicomte?" I said

"Please, what have I told you about that? I think you are familar enough with me to call me Raoul now." He said, and again, too charmingly. "Anyways, Christine, have you decided if you want me to be your escort for tonight's Masquerade Ball?"

I was about to say no when Meg came up behind me. "She would love if you were. Pick her up at her room at eight." She closed the door on his face and I turned around glared at her and not just one of my mock glare, no. This was a real glare.

"MEG!" I said through clenched teeth, "What do you think you are doing? I am seeing someone else and you know how I feel about him!" I was about ready to choke her.

"Don't worry about it. Go with him to the ball but once you get there, ditch him and come and find me. I will be escorted by Paul, but he doesn't dance, so we'll just be talking, enjoying the night, so just find us." She sounded so sure of her "plan" and gave me a huge smile, as if that were to fix the ordeal. I was going to say something but I gave up. There was no use fighting it, so I just let it go. And the next thing I knew, we spent the next few hours getting ready for the ball. How I wish Erik were here.


	24. Chapter 24

I looked in the mirror at myself. The dress that I chose was from some show we did a year or so. It was just a formal purple and blue ball gown, the sleeves falling off my shoulders. I borrowed Meg's white gloves that came up to a little past my elbows and a pair of diamond earings. I also slipped the ring that Erik gave me onto a chain that actually belonged to my mother and it looked stunning. I even had to admit, I looked stunning. Meg did a wonder with my mess of black curls.

And Meg looked adorable in her dress, which she borrowed from some show, just a simple white dress that came right to her knees, although her breasts were popping out ever so slightly, and by ever so slightly, I mean they were basicallu falling out. She sported a black mask also, with matching black gloves. I asked her about the dress, but she assured me that it was the popular fashion at balls and parties. She walked towards the door and looked back at me.

"Gosh, I am good. You look fantastic but aren't you going to wear a mask, Christine?" Meg asked me, "After all, it IS the New Year's Masquerade Ball."

"You don't have to wear one," I pointed out. She shrugged.

"Suit yourself. I'm going back to my room so Paul can escort me. See you there, Chistine." She waved goodbye before she shut the door.

"See you there," I said a bit sadly after she left. I did look great and I know the masquerade will be fun but I wish Erik was going to be there and I was going with him. That would mean he was out of the heat and everything was going to be alright and perfect.

But no, I was going with Raoul, which I was still mad at Meg for. I sat on my bed, my dress billowing out, looked at my pillow, and then hit it out frustration.

There was a soft knock at my door and I hit my pillow again for good measure, slightly grunting in frustration. I did not want to go with him. Maybe I could just say I changed my mind. No that would be bad of me to do. I might as well just grin and bear it for now. I'll ditch him later hopefully.

I opened the door, expecting to see Raoul dressed up in some ridiculous costume, but it wasn't. It was a man, about a head taller than me, dressed in head to toe red basically. There was sort of a military uniform quality to it and he wore a long cape and sword at his side. The mop of brown, wavy hair covered the top of his brow, which was halfway covered by a full mask that covered the majority of his face, but I could see his emerald green eyes perfectly whcih were looking up and down me. He had a devilish grin spread on his face.

"Excuse me, I believe I am looking for Mds. Daae, soon to be Md. Deveraux She's about your height and has your color hair and eyes but she doesn't usually look this amazing," The man said, smiling bigger, coming into my room, closing the door behind, "Actually, she always looks beautiful. You always look beautiful." My heart could have lept from my chest! I wrapped my arms around his neck, and I wish I could have stayed there for forever.

"Erik!" I exclaimed, "You're back. Oh, I'm so happy I could cry." Actually, there were tears in my eyes from sheer joy and there was tears in his eyes too. He held me tight and kissed the top of my head.

"I promise to never leave you again," He exhaled, "God, how I've missed you and this." I looked up at him and he gave me a kiss that sent me reeling. Oh, how I missed that! I couldn't believe that he was back home, with me. I sighed happily but realized something. I gasped.

"You idiot!" I said, "What if someone saw you in the hallway!" I realized he must have been standing out in the hallway for a good few minutes or so and in that time, someone, specifically Raoul, could have seen and called the police or something. He put himself in danger and I could have hit him for that. "I don't want you to risk anything. I just got you back." He laughed and I couldn't help but smile despite my feeling of panic. I had miss his melodic laugh terribly and hearing it made me happy for a split second.

"Christine, you worry too much," He said smiling, "It's a masquerade ball. No one will know who I am. They don't even know what the Opera Ghost looks like. Not yet at least." He chuckled again. "And if Raoul saw me, he wouldn't know who I am, either. I made sure of it. Why do you think I look so ridiculous?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "I don't think that," I said, the one smiling deviously, "I think you look rather dashing. You look great in red, Erik." My fingers traced up the front of his chest, tracing the lines and buttons of his shirt. I could feel his chest underneath his clothing and I missed it, although I don't know if I remembered him being so chiseled. It only been a few weeks. I blushed and turned away from him.

"What's wrong, Christine?" He asked me. I bit my lip, trying not to say nothing but there was something slightly wrong. The fact that Raoul was my escort tonight.

"Well, Raoul is my escort tonight," I said quickly, "I'm sorry, but it's not my fault. It's Meg's and you know that I would never actually agree with going with him and I think that he is disgusting and dangerous and-" Erik put his finger on my lips, stopping my ranting.

"I know," He said, "And I'm not mad. Actually, it might be of some help." I gave him a quizzical look, my eye brows raising in confusion. He smiled at me and kissed my forehead. There was a knock at the door, making me jump slightly. "Don't worry about it," He whispered to me, "Just when you see me, act like you are disgusted with me." I was going to say something but the knock grew more persistent and he slipped away into the mirror that he took me through. I sighed, and walked to my door and opened it.

"Good evening, Mds." Raoul said, his blue eyes looking up and down me, making my skin crawl, "You look ravishing."

"Thank you, Monsieur," I said with a fake smile, "Don't you look.. Dashing." He had a navy blue military uniform with gold ribbons and buttons on it and his black hair was once again swept back, grease plastered to his head. He stepped into my room and looked around.

"Were you talking to anyone?" He asked. I panicked for a split second. Damn, the man had good hearing. Like a rat or something.

"Of course not!" I said, taking his arm, leading out of my room, "Come, let us go. I bet they are missing their Patron."


	25. Chapter 25

"Beautiful necklace," He said dryly to, catching me off guard. I gave him a funny look.

"Huh?" I said. We were walking from my room to the top of the stairs of the lobby when I noticed him looking at the ring around my neck. He pointed at it with his free hand. "Oh! This old thing?" I said, grabbing it with my fingers nervously, "It was my mother's and I just found it recently and decided to wear it." He just nodded, his blue eyes like narrow slits. I didn't want him to think it was my engagement ring because then he would try and pry out of me who gave it to me and it would just get messy real quick and I didn't really want to deal with that or him. And I certainly didn't want him to find that it was from Erik.

We walked down the halls, down to the marble steps of the lobby to the Opera Populaire, arm and arm, and I was completely awed by the decorations. It seemed like I was in a dream because everything was either draped in gold or black tapestry of some sort. And they had a fire swallower and contortionists and the whole middle was open as a dance floor, where people in fantastic costumed waltzed twirled. People were dressed as clowns and noble men of old. Some were angels and demons. Everyone and everything just seemed surreal to me. And everyone was staring at us, whispering to one another. Great, just my luck.

Raoul lead me to where the managers, who were dressed in red and gold with funny looking bird masks, were standing off to the side with their significantly younger dates. I shook my head slightly at them. I know the two of them: Danielle and Samantha Louievelle. They're sisters and they both loved rich men. It doesn't matter to them whether they were young, old, ugly or beautiful. They just wanted to be with money, but who am I to judge them?

"Ah," Firmin said, with a big grin, "Good evening, M. Vicomt. And Mds. Daae. How are you doing on this fine evening?" I opened my mouth to say something but Raoul said something before I could. I rolled my eyes as any 17 year old girl would do, being careful for them not to see.

"We are doing wonderfully," He began in his charmingly smarmy voice, "I must say that we are truly impress with everything. The decorations are exquisite, and the music is also." He kept blathering on and unfortunately, he a tight grip on my arm. No chance to escape, so I stood there for what had to be twenty minutes of him talking about basically nothing. It was ridiculous.

I saw Meg in the corner with her date, Paul I think it was? Her date was dressed as dashing knight in not so shiny armor, but he still looked the part. Meg waved to me, trying to get me to come over. I had to shake my head no, indicating to my date and letting her know that there was no chance for freedom. I shrugged slightly and she shook her head sadly. She went back to talking to her date again, leaving me alone to fend for myself with the sisters, the managers and Raoul. And I couldn't believe it but he was still talking to them.

"This ball reminds of the party I once threw in Nice for my father," Raoul said. Then he put a sad look on his face, "Before he passed away. God rest his soul." Everyone gave him empathetic sighs and looks, obviously feeling sorry for him. I just kept my mouth closed, nodding my head.

I bet you killed him too, just to get his money, I thought to myself, more as a joke if anything but then got a sudden chill down my spine. I actually wouldn't be surprised if he did. I shook the feeling away and pretended to be interested in the things that they were talking about, but my mind was wandering somewhere else.

What did Erik say earlier? I couldn't really remember, I was too overwhelmed with him being there to really listen to what he said. I did remember though, that he said that he was going to be here tonight. But when and where? What did he have rolled up his sleeves now? I sighed and shook my head. Raoul gave me a funny look, along with everyone else.

"Are you okay, Christine?" He asked me. I guess I hadn't realized that I sighed loudly and shook my head. I almost had forgotten that I was with him and at the ball with him. "You were in sort of a daze? Are you ill again?" I almost nodded yes, but then shook my head no. I told him that I was shaking my head at Meg, who tried to get me to come by her. I told him I was enjoying myself with everyone around us, which was a complete lie. He nodded his head, as if he were agreeing with me, but I knew he didn't actually listen to a work I said, but it didn't matter to me. I couldn't possibly care less. He gave me one last quizzical look and then looked at the dance floor, where people waltzed and twirled around like ballerinas on top of jewelry boxes.

"Would you care to honor me to a dance, m'lady?" He asked me, trying to be cute. I plastered a fake smile, finding his attempt pathetic, but said I would love to. Dancing would be better than just standing around, listening to them blather on about nothing. Raoul bid our adieu to the managers, taking my hand and lead me to the dance floor. My hand was in his hand and on his shoulder, while his hand was around my waist, and not in the middle of my back where it was supposed to be. Pig.

He lead while we dance and I was surprised to find out that he was a fairly good dancer. He was smooth with the turns and never once stepped on my foot, like I thought he would. But he kept looking at me, just staring in my eyes. His ice blue eyes were giving me the worst feelings.

The string quartet played loudly, drowning out my worried thoughts and I just concentrated on dancing, and not even with the Vicomte. All of the sudden, we stopped.

"Can I cut in?" A velvety voice asked.


	26. Chapter 26

I looked at the man who covered head to toe in red who had stopped our waltz. He was standing next to us on the dance floor, his green eyes warm, and with a devilish grin spreading on his face. It was hard containing all the joy I felt seeing him in front of me, out here in plain view rather him hidden in the shadows of my room or his "artistic" domain. He asked again, his voice as soft as the red velvet that he wore:

"Can I cut in?" It sounded more of a request than a question. Roaul just looked him up and down, looked at me and then back at the young man dressed in red. He had a sort of snide sneer stretched across his face, but at the same time, it almost looked like a smile. I kept looking back and forth at the teo of them, and it was very hard not to just push Raoul out of the way and just kiss Erik. But I had to, for Erik's and my sake. Raoul gave one last look, his beady blue eyes looking him up and down. My heart began to race, thinking if Raoul kept looking at Erik, he would eventually figure out who he was. I quickly looked at Erik, my eyes filled with worry, but he was calm and demeanor was smooth and collected. He didn't think that he was going to be figured out.

"What are you supposed to be?" He asked curtly. I gave him a hard glare but Erik, the wonderful man that he is, just chuckled.

"Why, I am the Red Death," He said frankly, as though Raoul or anyone else should have known, "Do you not know of Poe's works?" I giggled slightly, but stopped immediately when Raoul squeezed my hand, a little too tightly. I saw Erik's eyes widen with anger when he saw my face grimace slightly, but he kept his composure. He had to.

The Vicomte gave one last look at him, his eyes going up and down, and then one last look to me. "It would mean so much to me," Erik threw in, "I am a huge fan of Mds. Daae's work. I have seen every single one of her performances."

"Oh come now Raoul," I said stepping away from him, "It is just one dance." I wish it were more than just one dance; I wish it was a life time, but one dance would have to do for now.

"Why not?" Raoul said, almost too charmingly again, "She is a lovely dancer, monsieur. Take good care of my Christine." I wanted to gag slightly, but instead I took my hand out of Raoul's and placed it in Erik's grasp. He gave Raoul a smile of triumph and lead in the dance and he was as graceful as ever. I thought Raoul was a good dancer, but Erik was stupendous. The way he just glided on the floor, keeping perfect time with the music. And the way he spun me around made me feel like I was flying. It brought me back to that dream I had of him just a few months ago. I smiled and wanted to lay my head on his chest and I was about to but then he gave me a look.

"As much as I would love that," He said with a tight smile, "I don't think that would be the best of ideas, not yet at least." I nodded, understanding what he meant. I sighed deeply and continues to dance with Erik, gracefully and wonderfully. I couldn't be happier. We danced for a little while longer in silence, but I winced slightly when Erik grasped my hand slightly tighter, though he meant it lovingly. I tried to smile the pain away, but Erik saw right through my mask. His eyes were like hawks, I swear. He saw every single detail in anything and everything.

"Did he hurt you?" His question caught me off guard a bit. I looked at my hand and back up at him. I shook my head no, lying slightly. My hand, spesifically my pinky, still throbbed slightly after Raoul's squeeze. "Are you sure, Christine? I am so sorry that I didn't so anything, but I couldn't. Not right then at least." I could tell when it had happened, Erik wanted nothing more to pound in Raoul's pretty, little smarmy face.

"Erik," I said as he spun me around once more, "It's alright, I swear. He squeezes like a girl." I tried make a joke out of it, but Erik did not seemed amused. His green eyes seemed to harbor something, I think anger maybe, which was a rarity for him. He was usually so calm and collected, but at that moment, he seemed on edge. Like there was something that was eating away at him. I looked at him and then at Raoul, who was with the managers, talking with them but every few moments or so, he would look at us. It made me feel uncomfortable. All I wanted to do at that moment was to make him happy again, that I could hear his melodic laugh that gave me butterflies, but Erik was so tense. I was going to say something, anything to cheer him up, but then he spoke.

"'My Christine'?" He said, almost spitting the words out like venom, but then he gave a dark chuckle, "If he only knew."

"Christine, I love you so much and I apologize in advanced for what is going to happen tonight. It's going to make seeing you very hard to do, but it must be done." Before I could say anything, he grabbed my head and pulled me into a mind blowing kiss. It was as almost explosive as the night we kissed on the roof. I melted into his arms, kissing him back passionately, the music blaring around us and the people stopping to stare the spectacle in the middle which was us. I could feel Raoul's feet stomping, running on the ground towards us, but still we kissed. I couldn't possibly care less about him.

When our lips finally parted, I gave him a sinful grin.

"I thought I was supposed to act disgusted with you," I said jokingly. Erik smiled and chuckled slightly.

"You can do that now, please. Just trust me. I love you," He said stepping away from me, bounding for the stairs. Raoul stood next to me, his sword ready in his hand, and my face grew distorted in fake disgust as Erik reached the bottom, stopping there.

Everything fell silent, with the exception of people murmuring back and forth to each other, but all eyes were on the man, dressed in blood red and full black mask. Erik spun around, looking at everyone, a devilish grin spreading across his face, his melodic chuckle, deep in his throat.

"What?" He asked everyone, mocking them slightly, "It looks as though you have seen a ghost. Well, you are looking at one now."


	27. Chapter 27

The entire hall fell silent as Erik stood upon the top step. You could probably hear a pin drop, and then hear its echo bounce off the walls. Erik just stood there, smirking, looking smug in his red uniform ensemble, grasping at side. It was his sword that he was grasping for though, it was something much smaller than that. He gave a chuckle that ran through the air.

"Good evening one and all", he said, almost joyfully, "I hope you are all well tonight. I know I am doing quite well. I just danced with the lovely Mds. Daae, which leads to why I am here." Erik began to slowly walk down the stairs, graceful as ever. He just seemed to float down to the middle of the steps. Everyone around walked away from him like he had the plague. "I don't know why you are so afraid of me. I haven't done anything to you personally. I'm actually here to give a gift." He finally took out whatever it was he holding at his side. He threw it to the ground for all to see.

"I have written something for you all. An opera, called 'Don Juan Triumphant'. I truly believe you all are going to appreciate it. I just have a few requests regarding my opera."

He continued to walk to Carlotta who standing petrified on the stair case next to Piangi. She stood there, whimpering slightly as she clung on to Piangi for dear life. He didn't look any better than her.

Erik looked at them up and down, gave them a slight smile of triumph. "Excuse me," he began, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything but I have something particularly important to tell you. First of all, you must be taught to act. Strutting and stamping around like a mad cow is not acting." Carlotta's mouth hung open in quiet shock. For once she was completely speechless. Erik walked closer to her, until he was mere inches away from her face, and closed her mouth for her. "You'll catch flies if you keep it open any longer." He winked at her, and she blushed slightly. He stepped down to Piangi, who was almost a head shorter than him. He poked Piangi's round belly, who looked at Erik incredulously.

"Now you," Erik continued, "Need to lose a little bit of weight. Don Juan is charismatic, sensual man. And this", He said, pointing again to his stomach, "Is not. You will thank me later, I promise."

I couldn't help but smile at Erik and his whole charade. He was playing exactly what the people wanted, but I felt like he had more up his sleeve than just sharing his opera with all of Paris.

I also couldn't help but sense Raoul's growing anger. It was radiating off of him, I could feel it. I hadn't noticed before but he was grabbing the hilt of his sword now. I did not want this to result in violence, or Erik to wind up hurt, or even worse. I could not even bare to even think about that. Erik continued to address everyone, including the managers, whom he said they did not belong in the arts any longer.

"Stay in the office where you belong," He said with a smirk. Both of the men just nodded fervently, both scared witless. He stopped at the bottom stair case and stood there, looking around the entire room, glancing around at the terrified people. "I have one last request," He said, his voice booming. He then directed his emerald green eyes at me, so warm and loving. "Mds. Daae is to be the star. Does anyone have an argument against that? No? I did not think so. She clearly is the more talented one." Directing the last part to Carlotta, who just crossed her arms in a huff. Erik began to walk up the steps again, his back to most of the room.

"Oh," he said, reaching for his sword, "Before I forget, I'm not the one who killed Joseph." He drew his saber, pointing directly at Raoul. "It was your loving and adoring _patron_." Everyone gasped and turned to the fuming patron. Everyone gasped and turned their heads to the man with the black, slick back hair standing next to me, shaking with pure rage. His blue eyes seemed to seethe with hate for Erik.

That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Raoul, in a blind furry, drew his saber and bolted up the stairs to Erik, who merely just yelled "Adieu," and then disappeared in a puff of red smoke, down a hole that opened beneath in the floor. He will never cease to amaze me, but I could strangle him sometimes for his stupidity.

I ran up behind Raoul, trying to stop him, but he made it to the hole before I could. It closed behind him, leaving nothing but the floor and there was nothing I could do to make it open up again. I pounded against it out of frustration. "Oh merde," I said aloud. I had to do something to help Erik. I could not just let him face Raoul's rage by himself. It truly terrified me.

I ran frantically down the stairs into the sea of people crowded in the lobby, not really knowing where I was going to go. I was rounding the corner when someone grabbed my arm. It startled me so much that I let out a gasp but it was just Md. Giry. She looked pale with worry.

"Follow me," She whispered hoarsely to me, "I know where to find them."


	28. Chapter 28

She grabbed my wrist and dragged me through the crowd again. As we briskly walked, I could not help but hear everyone's mummurs of what they had just witnessed. It was clear that everyone was confused as to what they saw and who they saw. Most of the men thought it was an outrage for Erik to have disturbed the peace and tranquility of the party's atmosphere. And how he could propose that the patron could kill a man. While the women, both young and old alike, could not help but comment on how handsome he was. I don't know why but I got hit with a pang of jealousy, which was quite ludicrous because he his mine and no one can take him a away from me. But still, it made me feel uneasy to hear women say how sexy he was, or how his eyes seemed to twinkle when he talked.

But that was neither here nor there. First things first, I had to find Erik and help him and quickly before Raoul got to him.

"Where are we going?" I asked frantically as Md. Giry continued to lead me down into the basement of the Opera House. We were beaneth what I thought was the front of the lobby, into winding halls that never seemed to end. I was begining to think we were going to get lost. Md. Giry never answered my question, but I began to hear gutteral grunts down the hallway which we were running down.

Down the dim hallway, I could see a room that was full of mirrors. From the ceilings to the floors and the walls, it was covered with the reflective glass. I ran in front of Md. Giry, wantinng to barged my way into the room. I stopped in mid stride and almost yelled out Erik's name but I know I couldn't do that; that would put Erik in incredible danger. I saw Roaul and began to run towards when Md. Giry grabbed my arm again. I struggled to get out of her grasp.

"Please," I begged her, carefully not using names, "I have to help him." I had to help Erik.

"No, my child. You cannot help him by just charging like a bull," she said. She pursed her lips, thinking about what to do, while I thought too. She loosened the grip on my arm, and I took my chance and ran into the room. "Christine!" I ignored her and just ran blindly in there. I stopped in the middle of the room, unfortunately finding myself lost in the maze of mirrors. Oh wonderful.

I wandered around trying to find either one of them. I looked to the right of me and in one reflection, I saw that Raoul was slashing wildly into thin air, thinking he was slashing at Erik. And he was completely unaware of me.

To the left of me, Erik's green eyes made contact with mine, which were wide with fear, which Roaul saw and turned around. His blue eyes pierced through me, making me feel uneasy. I couldn't go anywhere with a wall behind me. I felt trapped and indeed, I was. I don't know how I was going to talk myself out of this mess this time. I continued to back up until I was against the wall, praying that Md. Giry would find us before he got to me, but I had a creeping feeling that wish was all in vain.

He almost ran towards me as he reliquished his sword to his sheath. "What are you doing here?" He barked at me. I put my hands to my face out of intinct and he grabbed my wrists tightly as I whimpered slightly.

"Raoul," I said, trying to pull away, "You're hurting me. Let go!" He just stared at me, his ice blue eyes wild with anger. Then we heard a whistle.

"Hey!" It was Erik, standing in the open, risking himself for me, "It's me you're after. Leave the poor girl alone." Raoul's eyes darted back and forth between me and Erik and then back at me.

"Roaul, let go of my hands," I said. My voice was shaking and I was pertrified. I didn't know what was going to happen next; to me, or to Erik. I tried pleading with my eyes to get Erik to run. I begged with my blue eyes to just go. That I could handle Raoul; he couldn't really do anything me, I don't think.

"What are you doing here?" He finally said again. I tried to say something but nothing came. I could scarcely breath. I tried to speak again, also trying to wriggle away when everything felt fuzzy again. The last thing I saw was Erik running towards us and then being flung to the ground. I hit my head on the ground, and I kept going in and out conciousness, watching in paralyzed fear as Roaul and Erik fought, throwing punch after punch.

Erik was on top of Roaul, wrestling and throwing punches. I pushed myself up and threw myself on top of Erick, trying to pull him off Raoul. He thrashed wildly in my arms as I pried him away from the patron. I think he broke Roaul's nose, for it was bleeding just a tiny bit. Not good.

We all stood up, I in the middle, with Raoul and Erik on either sice of me. I was stuck; what was I to do?

For my sake, I could not go with Roaul. He trerrified me. I thought he was going to either stirke me down, or strangle me when he saw me. There was death written in his eyes.

But then again, I could not go with Erik, not for his sake. If I did, all would be lost and he would either be arrested or he would have to flee the country, and I would lose him. I could not stand to lose him. Not when I just got him back again. It was those agonizing choices that were battling each other out in my head. What was I to do?


	29. Chapter 29

Raoul looked at me, and then back to Erik, wipping his bloodied nose on the sleeve of his torn military costume. He looked like utter hell; some of the golden tassels were barely hanging onto his navy blue jacket, his right shoulder was torn slightly, his black hair was every where and there was blood on his face. Whether it was from him or Erik, I didn't know. He ran hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down the fly aways that popped up during their fight.

Erik had little crimson spots dotting his white shirt, that was dirtied with dust and dirt from when he and Raoul were rolling all over the ground. It was a miracle that his mask stayed on. I swear that it defies all laws of physics. His red velvet jacket was lying in a heap on the floor against one of the many mirrors. I did not look any better, either. The sleeve of my prurple dress was torn slightly and there was rips and tears all over my dress. I think I was beginning to feel a bruise form on my arm from when Raoul threw me to the ground.

The silence was beginning to kill me more than anything now. I just wish I knew what was going on in Erik's head. What was he thinking when he was at he masquerade, when he pointed out the Vicomte? Did he have evidence now? Solid proof that he killed Joseph Buche? Or was it justa rash decision. I just wish I was let in on his plan. It frustrated me that I was left in the dark, without any way of helping Erik.

Raoul looked at me, looked at Erik and then looked back at me. The wheels in his head beginning to to churn and turn. His blue eyes were slowly beginning to narrow down on me. My heart began to beat rapidly in my chest, almost wanting to leap out in front of me. Oh God, did he finally see the connection between Erik and me? I prayed he didn't.

"Why did you follow me, Christine?" He asked slowly. I fell silent; I couldn't think of anything to say to him, not one single lie. "Answer me!" He barked at me when I didn't answer. I let out a small yelp of fear when he raised his voice at me. I was so afraid of him, terrified even.

"I said leave her out of this," Erik said through clenched teeth, "She has nothing to do with this. It is between you and me." Erik's green eyes glowed with venomous hatred for Raoul. I wish he wouldn't be so passionate about being my knight in shinning armor. But Raoul just gave Erik a wolf-tooth grin, and looked at me again, this time there was something more sinister lurking in his smile.

"Who said she had anything to do with this little quarrel," he said, making the gap between Raoul between him and I smaller, "I'm just curious. Can't I be curious about my little Christine?" He was mere inches away from me. His hand stroked my flushed cheeks, and I could see Erik visibly shake, his hands clenching into tight fists. I was beginning to become sick to my stomach. Raoul was just egging Erik now. "Were you worred about me?" Raoul said to my ear, his hot breath touching my skin. He never took his eyes off of Erik, though.

I tried to run from him, but he caught my wrist in a vice grip. I struggled but he wouldn't loosen his grip on me. He wanted me to struggle, I could see it. He wanted to see Erik reactions, to see if he was right. Erik took two steps forward, his hand reaching for his saber again.

"Let her go!" Erik bellowed. The mirrors shook as he spoke, but Raoul just continued to smile cruely at him. He never seemed to be intimidated by Erik's rage at all.

"Why?" Raoul spat back, his anger finally showing, "I thought she had nothing to do with this? I'm just trying to protect this lying **slut **from a murdered." My mouth fell open. He knew. Oh God, he knew, and I had new-found rage and courage rising inside me.

"Then let go of me, you snake." I said viciously, spitting in his face. He was so stunned that he loosened just enough that I could break from his grip and run to Erik's safe embrace. He kissed my head, while I steadied my breath. My adrenaline was coursing through my veims, but so was fear. Raoul turned toward us, disbelief plastered all over his face. He whipped the spit on his face, looking at it in his hand and gave me a dangerous look. I've been wanting to do that to him for a long time. I'm happy I did it; he deserved at least that.

"You little whore," he hissed at me, "I knew I was right when I heard another voice on the roof that, and in your room before the ball tonight."

"And I knew you were disgusting from the first moment I laid my eyes on you, you ass." I spat back, Erik practically holding me back, "And I know what you truly are. Other than a pathetic excuse of a man."

"Christine," Erik said cautiously. Raoul raised his brow at me for his respomse, tossing a rough laugh in my direction, but I could see that the color was palling in his face. I took a deep breath, and stepped forward, ready to finally say that he was the murderer, that I knew everything.

"Christine! M. Vicomte!" A shrill voice cut through the air, "Where are you?!" I turned to Erik and gave him one last passionate kiss. I didn't know when the next time I was going to see him. It might be a very long time before I see him next.

"Go!" I said to him, his green eyes terrified, not wanting to leave me alone with Roaul. "Don't worry. I'll be fine, I promise."

"CHRISTINE!"

"GO!" I said again. He looked at me and then glared at Raoul, who stood across from us, and then back to me. His eyes full of worry, he kissed me once again and then my hands.

"Fine," he said to me, and then loud enough for the patron to hear, "But I will return for you. And you, M. Vicomte, for we have unfinished business." With that, he disappeared into the hall of mirrors and shadows. I turned to the Vicomte who still stood dumbfounded and scared. As Md. Giry came rushing down the hall, I walked towards him, wanting to play with fire some more.

"I know everything," I said to him, and he turned to the color of fresh snow, trying to swallow his fear.

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked through clenched teeth. I gave him a forced laugh.

"I know your hands are died red from innocent's blood. Don't try to hide it from me. I can see it in your eyes, and I saw," I said, baiting him now, "I saw you that night. The night that Joseph died. I saw you do it." He looked like he was about to drop like a hat.

"How?" He asked, his voice shaking and quivering. I wanted to laugh; I can't really believe he to took the bait.

I was going to say something but Md. Giry was gettinng closer and I didn't want to get her involved in the danger. Raoul grabbed me closer, his hot breath on my skin again. "This isn't over."

He was right. It was not over. Not by a long shot.


	30. Chapter 30

Md. Giry came running into the room and immediately stopped, worry and confusion written all of her face. Her gray eyes scanned the Vicomte and me up and down. Whether it was because we were so close in proximity together or for the fact that we both looked pretty awful, I did not know. She looked almost horrified when she looked at me, noticing the bruise on my arm and my torn dress, and then her eyes grew large when she took another look at the patron.

"M. Vicomte, what in the God's name happened to you?" She demanded, "It looks like you just got back from a war, and lost. Badly." I had to hold back the grin that wanted to spread across my face at her comment. Erik really did get a couple of good hits on Raoul. His nose was already swelling a bit. I truly think Erik broke it. I think it suits Raoul better this way. And then a bruise was beginning to form around his right eye. Raoul took a shuddering breath in, obviously fighting his anger back, whipping off some of the blood on his cheek, but before he could say anything, Md. Giry cut him off by asking what happened to my dress. I was already so flustered that I really did not have an answer for her, but I had so many questions for her.

"Well," I began, "You see, after I left you, I ran in here and uh…" I kept stumbling over my words. I guess the shock was finally starting to set in. I really could not form any sentences and properly say them like a human being. I probably looked like an idiot to Md. Giry, falling over my words like a simpleton. "After I came in-"

"After she came in here, the scoundrel and I began fighting and unfortunately she got in the middle of it," Raoul said, cutting me off "I think she wanted to protect me. Is that not sweetest thing? You must truly care about me." I gave him a dry look. Why was he lying? Just ten minutes, he called me a lying slut. Now he thinks I'm sweet?

"Christine," Md. Giry said with uncertainty, "Are you alright? Did _he_ hurt you in any way?" The way she said 'he' made me think that she and M. Vicomte were not talking about the same scoundrel. I think Md. Giry knows much more than she is letting on, and I planned to find out what she knew. But that would have to be answered at a later date, and without the Vicomte in the same room. For now, I just shook my head no, still not able to form words yet. I could tell her later that I had a bruise on my head and arm from where Raoul grabbed me and threw me to the ground, but I just wanted to get away from there as quickly as possible. I needed fresh air and a quiet place to clear my mind.

"She seems alright, but maybe I should escort her back to her room?" Raoul suggested, and then added silkily, "I don't want her to get into any more trouble." The look in his eyes made me want to run; there was a red, murderous glare sitting behind his ice blue eyes, but he couldn't do anything to me. Not yet at least. I could tell that he had something much worse for me for a later date, and knowing that, that terrified me even more. Especially since whatever it was probably had to involve Erik.

"No, no," Md. Giry said, "I believe that you have helped quite enough tonight. You should probably go home and rest. Your nose swelling remarkably fast, Monsieur. I think you broke it to be perfectly honest." Again, I had to fight the urge to smile as he fought the urge of lashing out again. He took one more shuddering breath, looked at Md. Giry, and then turned to me, taking my hand ever so gently and kissed the top of it.

"Adieu," he said as his eyes caught mine. My eyes glared nothing but contempt for him, wishing my hatred was burning into his thick skull. He turned on his heel and left before Md. and I. We stood in silence for a few minutes, not really sure what to say to each other. I had so many burning questions for her, but before I could speak my mind, she took my hand and started walking slowly down the hall back to my room.

"Come my dear," she said almost sadly, "Let me get back to your room safely. Then we can all rest finally. It has been a long and turbulent night." I nodded and followed. We walked in silence for the majority of the journey back to the ballet dormitories, the halls dimly lit with the few gas lamps that were still fluttering with life. I wonder where Erik is.

Erik. Oh my Erik. That stupid, stupid idiot. I finally got him back and then he pulls something like this? It is going to be nearly impossible to see him now. Raoul now knows of his and my relationship, so he will be stalking me like a hawk. His gaze will somehow find me, and take Erik away from me again. My eyes began to tear up at the thought of losing him again. I couldn't bare it, I just couldn't.

No. I have to be strong, and I have to put my faith in him and his plan, whatever it may be. I just pray to God in Heaven that he knows what he is doing, and that he's safe while executing it. I just wish that he hasn't left me so in the dark about the whole thing. I want to be able to help him, and not just stand by, watching him struggle on his own. I am done being the damsel in distress. I'm ready to fight the Vicomte de Changy with everything I have.

"Christine," Md. Giry said to me abruptly, making me jump a bit, "You're crying? Why, my child?" I touched my cheeks, wet with tears, not realizing I had cried that much. I wiped away at my damp eyes, trying to make it stop, but it just wouldn't. There goes my bravado that I just had only moments ago. I suppose the shock of tonight was settling and taking its toll on me finally. I wanted to say I was scared, but no words came out. A sob wanted to erupt, but right when I was suppressing it, Md. Giry took me and held me in her embrace for what seemed like forever. I could no longer contain and I heaved and I sobbed into her. She just let me cry.

I have known the woman all my life and this is the first time I had ever seen her warm and loving towards me. I knew that she loved me like a daughter but she was not the loving kind of mother; she was always serious and stern in her loving. But this was a different woman in front of me, holding me.

"Oh Christine," She cooed to me, "It will be alright. Erik will be okay and everything will be alright." Stopped crying and looked at her. That was the first time she said his name, and now I knew for sure that we were on the same side.

"Does that mean you'll help him? Help us?" I whispered. She looked at me very gravely, but she still smiled.

"I have been on yours and Erik's side long before you even knew he existed," she said quietly, "I will tell you everything soon but for now, you need your rest. We all do for what is coming."


	31. Chapter 31

She bid me good night and shut the door behind me. I looked around my room and heaved a very heavy sigh. Although my body was physically exhausted, my mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. How long has Md. Giry known Erik? She said that she has been on "our" side since before I even knew Erik. What did she mean by that? For once could someone just be blunt, instead of mysterious and vague?

I suppose not: that would make my life boring.

Half chuckling to myself at the absurdity of me having a boring life, I shuffled to my bed, barely picking my feet off the floor. I got out of my ball gown and into just my slip underneath, and left it on the floor. I couldn't be bothered on hanging it up, so I left it in a heap. I collapsed on it, facing my white paint chipped ceiling, my back laying on the lumpy mattress. Goose-pimples began to appear on my arms. I guess it was a bit cold in my room, especially in only a thin slip. I crawled under the blankets, trying to find a comfortable position, but I just couldn't.

I turned over again, frustrated still that I could not find one comfortable position on my bed. My eyes began to wander about the room and then landed on the mirror. I stared at the reflective glass for a very long time, almost willing it to open for me like it opened for Erik. I wonder just how he did that. Was there a device somewhere on the mirror? Or maybe it was somewhere around it?

Since I wasn't going to sleep anytime soon, I got out of my bed and wandered to it. My room was fairly dark, except where the moonlight crept in from the small window I had, the moonbeam cascading like a waterfall.

I gingerly crept closer, placing my hands in front of me so I wouldn't run into anything, not that I had much to begin with; just a dresser and a night stand, but knowing my luck, I would run into both of those things.

"Ouch!" I hissed as I stubbed my big toe on my night stand. I knew I would happen.

Finally, my fingertips felt the cool glass of the mirror in front of me. I started feeling around the decorative sides of it. I couldn't really make out the designs were with my eyes, but my fingers told me that there were lots of swirls and grooved patterns pressed from some sort of metal. But what my fingers couldn't tell me was if there was some sort of device or button that could open the "door" to Erik's home. What did he call it? His "to his domain of dark, music and art". What a melodramatic bot, always one for flare and the fantastic. Again, my mind was all over the place, trying to replay what had happened tonight.

Why did Erik call out the Patron like he did? Especially in front of everyone like that. What did he know now that he did not before? Did he maybe just want to get a sort of reaction from Raoul? Hopefully he got what he wanted. Where did he get the proof, and from whom? And why couldn't he just tell me what he was doing for once, instead of leaving me in the dark? Doesn't he trust me? I would think he could trust me with that kind of information; I'm going to marry the man, aren't I? That takes all the trust in the world, one would think.

I was so busy with my thoughts in my head that I had not noticed that somehow, the mirror slowly began to open. And that my face was almost touching Erik's, which did not have his infamous half white mask on. I always preferred to see his whole face. I swear I could I stare into his emerald eyes for eternity. He was so beautiful that it almost hurts to look at him.

He gave me a quizzical look, while I prayed that he couldn't see my cheeks flush to a dark shade of red. My heart was racing faster than a humming bird's wings and a knot began to form in my stomach. It had been so long since I have known him now and yet every time when my eyes caught his, I would get this warm sensation growing inside of me.

"Hello there," he said with a wry smile, "I didn't expect to see you up this late." I giggled nervously but I scolded myself silently; there wasn't a real reason to feel nervous around him. It was just Erik.

I was wrong. He wasn't "just" Erik. He was MY Erik. My whole life. My everything.

"I couldn't fall asleep," I said lamely.

"So you decided to touch mirrors instead?" He countered, still smiling his mischievous grin. I felt my cheeks blush even more, knowing that he had caught me. I felt so embarrassed, like a child getting caught sneaking sweets from the cupboard before dinner.

"Well," I began to say, backing up so he could actually come through the entrance way to my room, "I got curious and I've always wondered how it worked. You know, how the mirror opened and whatnot." He began to chuckle at me. "And I thought if I could figure that out, I could come see you." I said the last part quietly, not realizing that we had both wandered back to my bed. He sat down and beckoned me to sit down next to him. I gathered myself on his shoulder. I could feel his heart beating just as fast as mine was. Faster even; glad I wasn't the only one then.

He took my hands and very gently, kissed my knuckles and then my hands. "I missed you too, Christine." He said, leaning his face on my hands, his cheeks warm against my cold knuckles, "That's why I came to see you now. I'm glad I didn't actually have to wake you up." I laughed.

"I couldn't find a comfortable spot on my bed, and-" but before I could finish my sentence, Erik's lips crushed mine in a fury of passion that I had never felt before. My body felt like it was melting into him. I guess talking could wait for a little bit.


	32. Chapter 32

Erik gathered me up in his arms; his lips still connected to mine and lied me gently down on my bed. My hands grabbed at his neck, pulling him even closer to me. My fingers were tangled in his shaggy brown hair, and my mind went blank. I forgot about everything in this world; Roaul, Meg, Md. Giry, Carlotta, the opera, all the danger. None of that mattered to me at the moment. All that I could think about desperately I wanted and needed Erik in my life.

And I thought about how I knew that he felt the same way. I could feel when he touched, or when I was in his arms. I felt as though we were the only two people left in the world. How I wish that could be true.

A giggle escaped my lips just from the sure happiness that I felt. Erik stopped and looked at me strangely. "Am I doing something wrong?" He asked very concerned. I giggled even more. I was almost giddy. Although I had no idea what I was doing in this moment, which kept me giggling like a school girl.

"God no," I said almost breathlessly, "It's just that I'm so happy. But..." I trailed off, becoming slightly flustered because I really didn't have a clue what I was doing. Truth was, I've never been with anyone. The closest I've ever gotten was at a Christmas ball where Sean, another work boy, kissed me under the mistletoe. That was two years ago. I had no idea what I was doing then, just like I had no idea what I was doing now. It was all so crazy and beautiful. I just wanted it to be perfect for Erik.

"But?" He prompted, bringing back to the reality of the situation. I bit my lip.

"But," I started, trying to find the right words, "I've never done this before." I said it so quietly that I didn't think he actually heard me. He gave me another strange look, and then sighed.

"Christine," He said taking my face so I was looking straight in his eyes, "It's new to me too, and I'm so glad it's new with you. You are my everything. I want this to be perfect and I'm scared too. So if you're not comfortable-"

"No!" I interjected, almost exasperatedly, "I mean this is what I want too. I just don't want to…" I trailed off again.

"Just don't want to what?" He asked me, studying my worried face in the dark. "Oh," He breathed, "I get it." He smiled at me, making me feel a whirlwind of emotions.

"Really?" I asked quietly. He nodded.

"Yes," he smiled, "But you're wrong. I told you that I've never done this before. Remember, I've been on the run for the past three years. So how could I?" He finished with his signature warm velvet laugh. It never failed to make my heart melt, and I felt so much better. Instead responding with my words, I kissed him instead, showing him that was doing everything right. That he was everything right for me.

And I had him and nothing could take him away from me here in my arms, tangled in the sheets of my bed. This moment where our bodies intertwined in a passion I have never felt before. It was just him and I in the dark together and nothing else mattered in the world, because after this moment, I had no idea what the outside world held for us. For all I know, this could be my last night with him.


End file.
